The Ex
by Purple2015
Summary: Back from a gruelling undercover op, Gail is summonsed to the Peck residence for the first cocktail party Elaine has thrown since Steve went to prison. The night doesn't exactly pan out as Gail imagined. (Complete for now but there may be a sequel)
1. Chapter 1

_So I am stuck on my other stories – devoid of inspiration – and then this came into my head. Happy to continue it if people like it._

_And of course I do not own Rookie Blue or any of the characters...do I need to bother saying that anymore?_

...

'There,' Elaine said, smoothing her hands across Gail's shoulders more from habit than because she needed to straighten Gail's shirt. She took a step back and surveyed Gail from head to toe. 'You could have worn a dress but I guess this will do.'

Gail rolled her eyes. 'Well, if I'm not up to scratch then perhaps I should go home.'

'No, no,' Elaine put a restraining hand on her forearm. 'That's not happening.'

Of course not. Gail sighed internally. Tonight was all about celebrating in a very public way her father's promotion. Gail had not missed the Peck soirées at all. After Steve went to prison, Elaine and Bill had retreated. Pulled up the draw bridge so to speak but if anyone imagined they'd given up on their personal ambitions, well clearly they hadn't been paying attention.

Never say never to a Peck, Gail thought wryly. 'It will blow over', Elaine had told her after Steve was convicted, referring not just to the family disgrace but Bill's rejection of Gail. It had taken the good part of two years but her father had come around grudgingly. Although Gail knew he would never entirely forgive her.

Elaine was much more pragmatic. Having lost her golden boy, she pinned her hopes on Gail to carry on the Peck legacy. No doubt she had invited a string of eligible women to tonight's event in the hope of marrying Gail off to one of them. 'You're not getting any younger,' Elaine had reminded her recently, 'and once your looks go, well.' Elaine shook her head sadly as if this was a reality too awful to contemplate. 'I'm thirty-two. I don't think my ovaries have shrivelled yet,' Gail had replied. To which Elaine had tssked, 'no need to be crass'.

'I suppose this,' Elaine flapped her hand to indicate Gail's grey silk shirt and black tailored trousers, 'is what the women go for.'

'The women?' Gail quirked an eyebrow. 'You mean the gay women?'

'The guests will be here any moment,' Elaine flapped her hand again, but dismissively, as though she had no time to get into a conversation with Gail right now. 'At least you're not wearing those dreadful combat boots. Now remember, we want a united front. After tonight, everyone who matters will know the Pecks are back in town.'

Gail groaned inwardly. It was like they were on the set of some bad soapy.

'I just need to have a final word with the caterers. Will you go wait by the front door with your father,' Elaine said. It was an instruction rather than a request.

'Yes mother.' Gail said, wondering if she could make a detour by the bar for a shot or three of tequila without Elaine noticing.

'And Gail, if you get a chance, let the Commissioner know how well your undercover op went.'

'Yes mother,' Gail said without any real conviction. She had only been back a little over a week, and while the operation was a success, it had been a gruelling and at times harrowing five months. Outside of her therapist, Gail didn't think she wanted to tell anyone about it.

'One last thing.' Elaine, who had started walking toward the kitchen, stopped and turned around.

'Yes mother,' Gail said, sounding more and more like an automaton.

'I've invited your ex. I thought it would be a nice welcome back gesture. I assumed you'd be okay with that.'

Gail crinkled her face. Did her mother think she was still hung up on Nick. The undercover op meant Gail had only seen him twice since he returned from Vancouver, the relationship with Juliet having run (from all accounts) its bitter course. These days she didn't have a lot to say to Nick but nor did she dislike him.

At least if she hung with Nick during the party it might keep at bay some of the sleaze bags her parents seemed to always invite to these functions. Although, the #MeToo movement had forced quite a few to reign themselves in so perhaps Gail didn't have to worry too much about their 'unwelcome attention' as Elaine obliquely referred to what the law quite plainly defined as 'sexual harassment'. But, hey who was Elaine to stop at pimping her daughter if it meant the Pecks could get ahead. Gail shook her head slightly in resignation.

'Seeing your ex - that's not going to be a problem?' Elaine asked sharply, mistaking Gail's gesture.

'No, not for me but I thought you didn't like Nick.'

'You're quite right about my opinion of him. The man is a fool in more ways than one. But no, I didn't invite Nicholas. I was referring to Dr Stewart.'


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for the lovely reviews, favs and follows. I really thought this fandom was starting to slip away but seems I was wrong (and I'm happy about that!). I will get back to my other stories eventually, but in the meantime I hope you like this update._

….

Half an hour had passed and still no sign of Holly. Gail wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. Ever punctual, the Commissioner was the third guest to arrive.

'Richard,' Elaine had purred once the greetings were out of the way. She had a hand on his elbow. 'Perhaps Gail can show you to the bar.'

What was she now – a cocktail waitress – but to be honest Gail didn't mind because it meant release from the meet-and-greet line.

'And Gail would love to tell you about her undercover op,' Elaine looked at Gail meaningfully as she steered the Commissioner in her direction.

'You don't have to say anything about the op,' the Commissioner said once they were out of Elaine's earshot. 'This is neither the time nor the place.'

His tone was kindly, which threw Gail a bit. There was something familiar about him which Gail couldn't quite place. Unlike most of the other top brass, she hadn't grown up at his knee. No, Commissioner Philippe had been brought in from Montreal following the scandal. A cleanskin tasked not just with stamping out corruption on the force but restoring public trust in it. His presence here tonight was something of a coup for Elaine and signalled that the Pecks were indeed back.

'Don't get me wrong. I admire Elaine,' the Commissioner said hurriedly when Gail didn't reply. It was obvious he was worried he may have overstepped. 'Elaine is diligent and dedicated and an excellent officer. She didn't deserve to have her career derailed by.' The Commissioner stopped abruptly, this time quite convinced he'd said too much.

'By my brother,' Gail finished for him.

No, that wasn't fair at all. Not when Gail's father was rewarded with a promotion and yet he was the one who very nearly convinced her to perjure herself on the stand for Steve. Gail might rail against her mother's ambitions but the Commissioner was right, Elaine didn't deserve to be punished for Steve's actions.

But it seemed the Commissioner didn't want to talk about Steve. 'Your mother is proud of you,' he said instead.

Gail tensed. Either the Commissioner was well informed or very astute, meaning that on seeing Gail and Elaine interact he had immediately sized up the mother-daughter relationship. She wasn't certain which was preferable.

'I know the op took its toil but you should be proud of the work you did,' he continued. 'You made a difference'

Gail bit her lip. It was this conviction that had got her through her darkest moments undercover but she didn't want to admit as much to a man she had just met. In any case, Elaine had taught her never to reveal weaknesses to a superior because it was a guarantee you'd never get ahead, or so Elaine claimed. But really, did Gail even care. The thought of climbing the greasy pole of success didn't hold a lot of allure.

Thankfully they arrived at the bar so Gail didn't have to think of a response to the Commissioner. Elaine had directed the caterers to set up bar just by the wide French doors which led out to a covered verandah and the garden made candescent by a myriad of tea light candles.

The evening was warm, the humidity and lack of a breeze making the air sultry and a little cloying. It was the sort of night you should be at home, with all the windows flung open, in a tank top and shorts drinking beer or better still on a beach somewhere with someone you…At this point Gail's brain stuttered and seemed to become stuck on an image of Holly. She was standing by the water's edge, the crème colour of her one-piece swim suit setting off her olive complexion, the low scoop at the back revealing a smooth expanse of skin upon which Gail imagined placing a line of soft kisses.

When Gail thought about Holly – which she did more often than she should allow herself – it was like looking through the view-master she had found at a garage sale as a kid. As she had shuttered through the reel with the sights of New York, each image had a disembodied somewhat lurid quality, the colours unnaturally vivid but blurred at the edges, real and yet not real. So it seemed when Gail imagined Holly.

Gail's now ex therapist had inquired whether Gail regarded these thoughts as obsessive and suggested she kick the habit by employing the rubber band trick, snapping it on her wrist and saying (out loud if no else was around), 'howdy toxic thought, I'm putting you in a dumpster and sending you far away down the railroad track'. Apart from the sheer idiocy of the suggestion, Gail knew Holly and toxic didn't go together in the same sentence. She found a new therapist immediately, which turned out to be one of the better decisions she'd made of late.

The Commissioner coughing pulled Gail back to the present.

'What's your poison, Commish?' she asked, cursing the fact that in social situations her mouth tended to run ahead of conscious thought. Commish? What the actual fuck? Where had that come from? Had Dov colonised her brain. Thank god her mother wasn't here. But the Commissioner laughed, seemingly not in the least taken aback by her irreverence or excellent impersonation of a dork.

'What are you drinking detective?'

'Tequila, uh sir,' Gail said, trying to recover a little ground. Why did her mother insist she attend these events when clearly the schmoozing gene had by-passed her. Steve, on the other hand, had been a pro at ass kissing, just like Elaine. Whereas Gail, well if anything she was a liability,

'Ah,' the Commissioner clapped his hands, 'tequila. My favourite.'

Immediately Gail realised why he seemed so familiar. He reminded her of Oliver. Physically he and Oliver were similar, with the same long, wide face and receding hair, and from the slight thickening of his waist, which even his expensively-cut suit couldn't completely conceal, she bet the Commissioner enjoyed a donut or two.

'Tequila shots', Gail held up two fingers to the bartender, who had clearly overheard the conversation and was already reaching for the shot glasses.

The woman smiled at Gail like she knew her. An arch, yet coy smile and Gail had a flash of a drunken night and some frantic sex. Gail had left once they were done to avoid any awkward encounters with the woman's roommate in the morning given they had been noisy, a fact she put down to their state of inebriation rather than the sex itself, which from memory was a tad clumsy due to the amount of alcohol they had consumed. Not that it had been bad, just not spectacular and not enough to make Gail want to go back for more. In any case, that was not something she tended to make a habit of.

After Holly, Gail wasn't much interested in relationships, finding it easier to fall into one night stands whenever she felt the need for sex. And she could always count on Anderson, who Gail had to admit was skilled, although she needed to be in the mood to put up with Frankie's gloating. Often it was less trouble to have a few drinks and pick up someone in a bar.

'Oh hey,' Gail said, hoping her lack of enthusiasm would discourage the bartender from taking this any further because really this party couldn't get any worse.

Not only was Gail about to come face-to-face with Holly, with whom she hadn't so much as exchanged a single text, let alone spoken to, in two and half years, but now this woman, whose name she couldn't even remember (yeah, okay, that was lousy) had appeared out of the woodwork. If Gail didn't know any better, she'd think the forces of evil (read Elaine) were conspiring against her. All she needed was for Frankie to appear but, given the detective wasn't senior enough to get an invite to the party, Gail was at least safe from that calamity.

Right now though, the most pressing issue was to make sure the bartender didn't blurt out something that would indicate to the Commissioner that she and Gail had slept together. If she did, Gail was certain Elaine would excommunicate her.

Truth was she hadn't had sex since before she left for undercover, and had Elaine not mentioned Holly's immanent arrival, Gail may well have returned to flirt with the bartender once she ditched the Commissioner. Gail imagined ravishing the bartender in a room down the hall while Elaine mingled with her guests, each one carefully chosen on the basis of what they could do to advance the Pecks. Elaine would be apoplectic. It was a ridiculous thought (but perversely amusing) and Gail blamed it, hell she blamed all her weird behaviour this evening, on how discombobulated she had felt since learning of Holly's return to Toronto.

Unfortunately, the bartender's smile had widened at Gail's half-hearted acknowledgement. As she passed the shot glasses to Gail, her finger tips brushed Gail's, lingering a little too long. Gail wondered if the Commissioner noticed, and hastily handed him his drink. They clinked glasses automatically. Could this party get any weirder, Gail thought.

'Here's to,' she started but couldn't think what to say next.

'Serendipitous meetings.' There was a twinkle in the Commissioner's eye. Yep, he'd noticed, Gail decided.

'Sure.' And with that, they both tipped back the shot glasses. Gail relished the warmth of the liquid as it went down her throat, molten velvet rather than a burn because of course Elaine only ever served top shelf liquor. She and the Commissioner slammed their glasses on the bar top at the same time.

'Another?' she asked and he nodded. The bartender was already sliding two shots across the bar top and Gail muttered a thanks.

Once again she and the Commissioner tipped back their glasses and once again Gail felt the liquor practically glide down her throat.

'How many of these do you recommend in order to weather this,' the Commissioner indicated the room which was beginning to fill with people.

'Are you asking because you really want to know or you think I'm a borderline alcoholic.'

The Commissioner laughed loudly then, a genuine belly laugh. 'I've seen your file. I know you're not an alcoholic.'

Was that the bartender sniggering, Gail wondered. And was the Commissioner serious? He had a teasing note in his voice but then if you were tasked with cleaning up the force, and given Steve's misdemeanours, the first thing you'd do is ask to see the files for every single Peck.

'Actually, it's purely self-interest. I'm not a fan of these events,' the Commissioner smiled.

'Join the club,' Gail said, surprised at her candour. 'You need to drink enough to endure the idiots,' and the gropers, she added to herself, 'but not so much that you start insulting or worse deck them.'

'Sage advice. My mother always swore the secret to a good party was to make the first drink double-strength to loosen people up.'

'Sounds like my kind of person.'

'Oh, I have a feeling you two would have got on like a house on fire,' the Commissioner said as he returned his empty glass to the bartender. She smirked and started to refill the glasses.

Taking her drink, Gail turned and put her back to bar, and the Commissioner followed suit. The room was now overflowing with guests and with them the rumble of conversations had amplified. Wait staff with trays of champagne and wine and fussy canapés weaved between the groups of people. Elaine and Bill where still at their post by the entranceway, greeting the new arrivals.

'Ugh,' Gail said as she caught sight of a woman in a beige jumpsuit with spaghetti straps and a low cleavage who Elaine was kissing warmly on the cheek. Fuck, had she said that out loud. The tequila had clearly lowered her inhibitions.

'Problem?' The Commissioner inquired.

'Ugh. No. Just someone,' she twisted around and was relieved to see the bartender had left to serve another guest. 'Someone my mother set me up with on a date.'

'Does your mother do that often?'

But Gail couldn't answer because just then Holly walked in and Gail felt as though someone had gut punched her and all the air had left her lungs. If anything, Holly was more beautiful than Gail remembered (was that even possible, she wondered). She gave a little gasp, which made the Commissioner look at her with concern.

'Are you okay?' he asked, but Gail had turned to reach for the tequila bottle and then without replying poured them both a generous shot.

'It must have been a bad date,' the Commissioner offered.

'That. Her. Yes,' Gail flapped her hand in the direction of the jump-suited woman. The tequila shot had not exactly worked wonders in helping her regain her power of speech but at least she had managed to say something.

The Commissioner was still nursing his overfull shot glass and now he put it on the bar, careful not to spill any of the liquid. Then he took Gail's empty glass and the bottle she was still clutching and placed them alongside his glass.

Even though she could feel the alcohol coursing through her veins, Gail wasn't too drunk to notice the way the Commissioner followed the trajectory of her gaze to Holly, and then back again, and then once more before he settled on Gail.

'You know the newly-appointed forensic pathologist?'' he asked gently, too gently so Gail found herself letting down her guard.

Without thinking and without taking her eyes off Holly, Gail breathed out, 'she's the love of my life.' The confession was at once liberating, making her feel as though a great weight had been lifted from her, and terrifying because why would Holly want to even speak to her after the way they parted.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks so much for the reviews, favs and follows and for reading. It all inspires me. Here is another instalment. I am having a lot of fun writing this. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know!_

…..

Had Gail really revealed her feelings about Holly to a man she had barely just met and who, to make matters worse, was the most senior police officer in Toronto? The top, top brass and Gail's top, top boss. She hadn't even told Holly she loved her. Every time Gail came close, a long ingrained wariness stopped her.

What if Holly didn't feel the same way? Even though Holly had made her feel wanted, adored even, and Gail so wanted to trust that Holly loved her, she couldn't shake the doubt that had pricked ever since Nick dismissed her as not girlfriend material. In any case wasn't Holly warm and caring with everyone, so maybe Gail was misreading the situation (a suspicion that was confirmed, albeit incorrectly, by Holly's throw away line that they were just having fun). Even on the days she came close to believing Holly reciprocated her sentiments, Gail held back, worried Holly would think her too needy or decide it was too soon and then it was too late.

Why had no one told her Holly was back in Toronto? Admittedly since returning from undercover, Gail had avoided her colleagues and they would have had to go out of their way to let her know. After the debrief, Gail immediately took leave and had been maintaining a low profile ever since. No trips to the Penny or a quick pop in to 15 because she wasn't ready to answers questions about the undercover op, at least, not yet when it still raw.

Gail knew she wasn't the kind of friend people met for coffee or texted randomly or followed on Facebook. Not that she had any social media accounts, even under a pseudonym. Elaine had forbidden it when Gail was a teenager, claiming a digital profile might harm Gail's chances of going undercover once she joined the force. Still, surely Traci or even Chloe might have thought to warn Gail. And what about Chris? He always swore he had her back. Not this time, buddy, she thought bitterly.

Hard not to feel let down when those three knew how much Holly meant to her, had seen beyond the brittle façade to the place where Gail's heart was a collection of fragments held together, and only just, by a gossamer thread. A thread which in Gail's imagination had not the delicacy nor translucence of spider's silk but was made of viscous strands, crimson with blood, its stickiness providing a flimsy adhesion. But like her mother, did Chris, Traci and Chloe think enough time had passed for Gail to have surely moved on from Holly?

Not one hour ago, when Elaine revealed Holly was on the guest list, Gail had shrugged and managed to say 'so' even though her heart had begun to beat so fast it was a miracle her mother couldn't hear it. At the same time Gail's head felt like it was full of wet cement. All of which made it nigh on impossible to focus completely on what Elaine was saying.

Elaine, grand inquisitor that she was, regarded Gail for a long moment and then smiled, actually smiled a genuine smile which confused Gail. 'Excellent,' she said, 'you always seem to stay on good terms with your exes so I imagined it would be no different with Dr Stewart.'

'Uh, I guess,' Gail had managed to mumble.

'What's that dear?' This time Elaine's smile wasn't quite so genuine.

Gail cleared her throat. 'I haven't really kept up with her.'

'Well, that's a pity. Dr Stewart achieved great things in San Francisco.'

Of course she did, Gail thought with a surge of pride (which really wasn't hers to feel because it wasn't like Holly was even her friend). This was swiftly replaced by an ache that she had missed these triumphs and the opportunity to celebrate them with Holly.

'It was quite a coup for the Forensics Department to lure her back here,' Elaine continued. 'I believe San Francisco tried to enter into a bidding war but Dr Stewart would have no part of it. She had accepted the job here and honoured that.'

'Sounds like Holly.'

'Intelligent, accomplished and the top of her field. Definitely someone worth cultivating, Gail.'

'Mother I thought we'd agreed you'd stop trying to set me up.'

'Oh, that wasn't my intention dear,' Elaine gave a fake little laugh. 'No that ship has definitely sailed. I meant in terms of your career.'

What did she mean that ship had sailed? Did Holly have a someone someone now? Stupid question, of course she did. A woman as amazing and smart and beautiful and caring as Holly wouldn't remain single for long. Gail tried to think of a way to ask her mother (because no question Elaine would know) without sounding like she cared, but then the guests started to arrive and Elaine propelled her in the direction of the front entranceway.

'Do try to smile, dear,' Elaine urged, 'Anyone looking at you would think you were here for a funeral.'

So Gail had plastered a smile across her face (more rictus than welcoming) and dutifully taken her place next to her father to greet the guests. For once she was pleased Elaine had invited half of Toronto because it meant avoiding Holly wouldn't be hard, which is exactly what Gail resolved to do. Melt away into the crowds. She was good at that. Hadn't she just come back from undercover and not one person had made her until they were safely locked away.

Maybe, she should approach this like an op. Yep, that could work, Gail decided. She could just keep circulating all evening, one step ahead of Holly. Better still, ten steps ahead. But of course that plan fell to shit as soon as she saw Holly. Really, Gail should have anticipated this because when it came to Holly, all her Peck training flew out the window.

So much for the plan to use the cover of the crowd. Instead she was literally frozen to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away from Holly, who fortunately was still shaking Bill's hand so had her back to Gail. Quite possibly Gail may have remained there, unable to move, had the Commissioner not intervened.

'Here, drink this,' he handed Gail a glass of water he had rustled up from somewhere. The bartender was still occupied serving other guests so it wasn't her doing.

Gail took a long gulp, as much to buy some time as to compose herself. She needed to come up with some sort of plausible explanation for her behaviour before the Commissioner dismissed her as a complete freak or insane or both.

She may not care what people thought of her, but Gail was enough her mother's daughter to know that when it came to the top brass appearances mattered. Although Gail didn't share Elaine's ambitions for her, she certainly didn't want to be relegated to some desk job for the remainder of her career.

'Do you need to sit down,' the Commissioner asked solicitously.

'No,' Gail shook her head vigorously. 'I'm okay. You know this is just,' she waved her hand about. 'It's not, I'm not normally,' she stopped and then began again, 'you probably think I'm a flake.' Oh god, was that the best she could do.

'Not at all. If you were a flake you wouldn't have busted open a child trafficking ring.'

Gail sighed. Why was the Commissioner being so understanding.

'If it helps any, I'm pretty lousy at managing my personal life. Hence no significant other.' He held up his ring finger to show it was bare.

'Oh,' was all Gail could manage.

'Can I give you a piece of advice?' The Commissioner asked.

Gail nodded numbly. She wasn't about to tell her top, top boss this was none of his damn business and anyway she was just being a fool and he should ignore her.

'Go talk to Ho- ah Dr Stewart and if you get a chance tell her exactly how you feel about her.'

Gail shook her head miserably. 'I can't.'

'Why not?' His question made it sound simple enough, but what was he proposing she do? March up to Holly and declare her undying love in front of the assembled scions of Toronto society and all her mother's cronies and sycophants, a sizeable portion of the latter who belonged to the force.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to pry,' the Commissioner apologised, misreading the reason for Gail's reticence. Although, had it been anyone else she would have said damn straight but for some reason she was giving this guy a pass.

'I know you didn't,' Gail paused, 'Holly and I, hell I don't even know if she has a girlfriend.'

'Did you see her arrive with anyone?'

'Well, no but that doesn't mean anything.'

'She's single,' the Commissioner said with great certainty.

'Did you read that in Holly's file.'

The Commissioner laughed. 'Something like that.'

Gail had the feeling he was holding back, and it made her wonder if he knew Holly better than he let on. She could have sworn that just before he almost said Holly before quickly switching to Dr Stewart. Then again, it was no surprise a man in his position had met the forensic department's newest star recruit or that Holly, who generally eschewed formality, would insist he call her by her first name.

'A head-ups. Your mother is coming this way with a very determined expression.'

'Great. She probably saw my mini-meltdown.'

'Is that what it was,' the Commissioner asked as if it had't occurred to him to call it that. Gail had to give him points for gallantry. 'I'm not sure she noticed.'

'The woman has eyes in the back of her head. Do you mind–'

'If you feed me to the wolves. Go, go,' he said, making a shoo-ing motion with his hands. 'I can handle Elaine.'

With that, Gail slipped through the french doors, across the verandah and into the garden. The night was so still and hot that very few guests had made their way outside, preferring the cool of indoors where Elaine had the AC pumped up to maximum. So much for reducing carbon emissions.

'Is that really a problem?' Elaine had mused not long ago, 'the scientists can't even agree.' Gail had tried not to do a double take. For an intelligent woman, Elaine sure had some whacky ideas.

'I think you'll find most scientists believe climate change is real.'

At that Elaine looked doubtful.

'Remember when the tobacco companies paid little known scientists to write papers disputing that smoking was bad for your health and then used that to throw doubt on legitimate studies', Gail explained, recalling a conversation she'd had with Holly. 'Well, oil companies did the same thing with climate change and, even though they are small in number, the doubters get equal media coverage.'

Elaine had laughed uncomfortably. 'Since when did you become such a firebrand radical, Gail Thunberg. You'll be manning the barricades next. Perhaps I should install a wind turbine in the back garden,' She smirked, quite taken with her riposte.

'Hilarious,' Gail muttered. She was hardly an eco warrior. Having never got around to buying a car, Gail used the claim that she was doing her bit for the planet as a convenient excuse to frequently bum lifts off her friends.

'Well, you're the one proselytising. You do know we own oil shares which help pay for all this.' Elaine indicated the house, which someone on a cop's salary, even a very senior cop, couldn't possibly afford. It was far too grand–or grandiose thought Gail, for whom it had never felt like a family home.

Now in the said back garden, which though sizeable was sans wind turbine, Gail made her way down a winding shingle path. It was bordered on either side by colourful herbaceous plants and perennials, which seemed to have flowered just in time for the party. Really, it shouldn't surprise Gail that even the flowers marched to her mother's orders.

At the end of the path there stood a rustic gazebo. It appeared to have been built at the beginning of the last century but Gail knew her mother had paid good money for that faux antiquarian look. Once inside the gazebo, Gail was concealed from any partygoers who might wander out into the garden, and she let out a long and shaky breath.

Why was she so flustered by the thought of seeing Holly? Stupid, stupid question, Gail berated herself. Their last conversation, just before Holly left for San Francisco, was so full of recriminations and so acrimonious that Gail knew there was no coming back from it.

It had made Gail grateful she'd never confessed her love to Holly. She had imagined Holly was different to the others for whom, without fail, Gail was never a first choice. Chris picked his friendship with Dov over Gail, and Nick, well Nick did it twice. Bad enough that he fell for her friend, Nick preferred a war zone to Gail. Then surprise surprise (actually it was unexpected and that's what made it cut even deeper), it transpired Holly's job was more important than Gail.

'It's not an either or proposition,' Holly had insisted, her patience tested as they went round this for the umpteenth time. 'I want both.'

But there was Sophie. Holly was worried Gail was being too hasty and was surprised the social worker had so readily agreed to Gail starting the adoption process (Gail didn't admit there may have been some flirtation there).

'I realise you wanting to take in Sophie comes from a good place,' Holly had said, 'but do you know how many studies have shown that first responders adopt kids who are left behind, yes out of compassion, but also from guilt that they couldn't save the child's relatives. Is that a good basis for starting a family?'

'Good as any,' Gail had shrugged defensively. 'At least I'm making an active choice to parent, unlike most people.'

'But you still live at the frat house and you don't even own a car.'

'Yeah, well that's something I plan on changing.'

'And what kind of support have you got. I mean your parents aren't,' Holly stopped and grimaced.

'Aren't speaking to me. Holly, I can do this on my own. Traci does.'

'Traci has a mother who's actively involved in Leo's care and an ex who shares custody.'

'Dex? He's more trouble than he's worth.'

'Honey,' Holly paused and sighed. 'Not that long ago you told me you still sometimes act like a fifteen year old.'

That hurt. It made Gail regret her candour and proved, once again, that you should never open up to people because they were bound to use it against you. Except Gail had trusted Holly wasn't like that. More fool her. Later Gail would see that Holly was fighting for her and that she said those things because she cared and was, in fact, right about Gail not being ready to parent. Not when Gail was still figuring out who she was and especially not when they were tentatively starting over.

'I'm not saying never have children,' Holly had added, 'just not right now and not when we're still working things out.'

Implicit was Holly's openness to parenting with Gail once their relationship was on a more solid footing, but Gail didn't hear that. No, to her it sounded like rejection. She wasn't good enough to be a mother or good enough for Holly. She was everyone's second choice, even Holly's. So Gail lashed out, doing what she had always done when she felt under attack, and had been cruel and hurtful (after all she'd learnt from Elaine how best to exploit people's vulnerabilities) until Holly had finally left.

They were meant to spend Holly's last days in Toronto together but that didn't happen. Gail hoped Holly would realise she hadn't really meant to say all those things. Surely Holly knew that pushing people away and climbing up trees was practically imprinted in Gail's DNA, and surely she would forgive her like she had before. But there was complete radio silence (Gail checked her phone more times than should perhaps be humanly possible) and the days turned into hours and then minutes and finally seconds and then Holly was gone.

The sound of laughter drifted across the garden. The tea lights which lined the pathway cast flickering shadows across the gazebo which was why (well, that and the fact she was somewhat preoccupied) Gail didn't notice she was no longer alone until she felt a hard on her arm. Jumping in surprise, she whipped around, catching sight of brunette hair. Just for a moment, a split second really, she stopped breathing. Then she recognised the bartender and cursed herself for picking one night stands with a psychical resemblance to Holly, even if in this case that similarity was only passing.

'What the hell,' Gail snarled, 'you shouldn't sneak up on people like that.'

'I wanted to give you this,' the bartender held up a slip of paper and then, before Gail could stop her, slipped it into Gail's top pocket, grazing her breast as she did so. 'My number,' she said by way of explanation.

'What the fuck. Don't touch me,' Gail backed away from the woman.

'You didn't seem to have a problem with that when we hooked up,' the bartender lowered her voice seductively, seemingly unperturbed by Gail's tone or look of disdain.

'I'm a police officer,' Gail said, which was kind of dumb because what was she going to do—arrest the woman?

'You can cuff me anytime,' the bartender winked.

Maybe Gail could arrest her given her persistence was bordering on harassment.

'So?' the bartender arched an eyebrow and took a step toward Gail, who would have retreated further into the gazebo had a sound not diverted her attention.

It was barely anything, just a steady exhale of a breath held too long, but it made Gail look up and there stood Holly on the first step of the gazebo. Of course, Holly was there. Gail's dumb luck guaranteed that. It was this—the misfortune of being chanced upon by Holly in this ridiculous situation with the annoying bartender—and not Holly (never Holly) that caused Gail to look exasperated. In the guttering candle light Gail couldn't make out Holly's expression but Holly immediately began to back away.

'Sorry, I did mean to intrude,' she said, turning swiftly to head up the shingle pathway.

'Holly, wait. It's not what it looks—.' Gail lunged forward but the bartender blocked her way.

'You'll call me?'

'No,' Gail said incredulously as she pushed passed.

In the short time Gail had been in the gazebo, the garden had begun to fill with guests as indoors reached a critical mass and even the AC couldn't keep at bay the sticky heat generated by the crush of bodies. Elaine would be beyond delighted her party was such a success. Gail suspected a sizeable number of the guests had attended out of prurient curiosity—the fall of the mighty was always a drawcard, doubly so when people were given a chance to bear witness to the resurrection of those who not so long ago bore the epithet of disgrace.

By the time Gail reached the end of the pathway, she had lost sight of Holly. Seeing no sign of her on the verandah, Gail plunged inside but the sheer number of people made it impossible to see where Holly had gone.

'Did a tall brunette with glasses come this way?' Gail asked a bejewelled matron. The woman's face was so lacquered with make-up Gail wondered if she had to chisel it off each night or perhaps she just kept applying layers.

'She went that way,' another woman, who was standing alongside the matron, pointed in the direction of the front reception area. Her appearance was almost identical to that of the matron's except her hair was sprayed stiff in a formidable helmet.

Gail nodded her thanks and as she turned to go she heard the first woman say in a conspiratorial stage whisper, 'That's the daughter.'

'Oh,' the other one said, 'corrupt as well?'

'No. Lesbian.' Her tone was gossipy and opprobrium clear.

Gail swung back round. 'Just need a murderer in the family, then we'll hit the trifecta'. Her voice was syrupy and her smile wide but entirely disquieting, withering rather than warm and with a dangerous edge that, had it been directed at them, would have had her friends scurrying for cover.

Elaine was going to kill her but the shocked faces of the two society matrons was entirely worth it.

Gail managed to spot Holly just in time to witness Elaine introducing her to Ms beige jump suit. Elaine looked very pleased with herself, while beige jump suit (whose name was actually Sasha and who was the mayor's daughter) kept pulling up the spaghetti straps on her outfit which were stubbornly refusing to remain in place, a wardrobe malfunction which made Gail smirk. Holly had the look of someone trying to be polite but Gail could tell she was distracted.

Gail was too far away to hear the conversation, but her mother threw back her head with laughter at something Sasha said, and then made her excuses to move on. Somehow in taking her leave, Elaine managed to bring the two women together so they were bumping shoulders. At least that made it difficult for Saha to fix her spaghetti straps.

If Holly's expression was anything to go by, caught as it was between polite disinterest and discomfort, Gail clearly needed to go rescue her. What she would actually say to Holly was another question, but saving her from Sasha's clutches was a mission Gail was not going to refuse.

From their one date, Gail knew Sasha was on the look out for her ideal wife. Having graduated near top of law school and been made partner at a ridiculously young age at one of Toronto's leading law firms, Saha was ready to settle down or as she put it 'do the whole 2.2 kids and a dog thing and little league on the weekends'. As she mapped out the trajectory her life had taken so far and her plans for her future, Gail wondered that Sasha hadn't brought spread sheets with her. It occurred to Gail that this woman had never hit a bump in the road her entire privileged, cosseted life.

To say she was a control freak was an understatement, but Gail also sensed Sasha would not take kindly to anyone who stood between her and her ambitions. Pity the poor woman who ends up as her partner, Gail thought just as Sasha said, 'I normally only ever date professional women, but your mother was very persuasive and apparently you have a college degree.' Gail tried not to look pained and then gave up and took a bite of the single dumpling sitting on the very large plate in front of her.

'Tomatoes,' Sasha had said when she called to arrange the date and asked Gail if she had any allergies, 'we'll do Asian then'. So here they were at an over priced fusion restaurant which had five stars and a minimalist sensibility that extended from the décor to the servings. What Gail would give to be eating a pizza. A break in an investigation meant she skipped lunch and then had to rush to get ready for this date and her stomach was rumbling so loudly she was surprised Sasha hadn't commented. She appeared to have an opinion on everything else. Gail looked up to see Sasha regarding her appraisingly.

'I can imagine you wouldn't be put off by a room full of executives.'

'Huh,' Gail said, trying to keep her mouth shut as she savoured the final morsel of dumpling.

'I attend a lot of work functions,' Sasha had explained, a little impatiently like Gail wasn't keeping up. 'Those guys will eat you up.' She smirked and licked her lips as if in anticipation. Now Gail understood. She saw Sasha slotting her into her life plan, the trophy wife she could show off to her colleagues, educated but not quite as much as Sasha, with enough connections to make her an asset.

'And how do you feel about being a stay at home mother?' Sasha asked, as if they had arrived at some sort of understanding. 'I'm not a big fan of day care.'

Fortunately Frankie had chosen that moment to text Gail. Sasha was clearly irritated by the interruption. 'It's work. I gotta take this,' Gail was already standing. It was a booty call but Sasha didn't need to know that.

A moment later Gail was back at the table. 'A break in the case,' she said apologetically, ' My boss wants me to come.' Okay, the last bit was gratuitous but it amused Gail, and she reckoned she was owed that for suffering through the entrees with Sasha.

'A rain check then,' Sasha said.

'Sure,' Gail lied, 'this case is pretty intense so I'm not sure when.'

'You'll call me?'

'Sure,' Gail lied again. 'I've really gotta go.'

Not long after Gail was sent undercover and completely banished Sasha from her mind, although it was after that date she had put her foot down and told Elaine enough was enough. No more blind dates. To Gail's surprise Elaine had readily agreed, but now it looked like she was trying to palm Sasha off on Holly. Regardless of her feelings for Holly or the fact she wasn't even sure Holly wanted to even speak to her, Gail decided it was her duty to put a stop to that.

However, Gail was prevented from her self-appointed mission by one of her father's former colleagues who swooped in and kissed her on the cheek before she had a chance to dodge him.

Gail remembered this guy from the Peck parties she was forced to attend as a teenager. He was always finding excuses to brush up against or inappropriately touch her. She'd last seen him when she was seventeen and then he'd transferred to Vancouver but she had recently heard on the grapevine that he was, unfortunately, back in Toronto

'My you have grown,' he said, looking Gail up and down in a way that made her skin crawl.

'Children tend to do that Scott,' she said using that saccharine voice and his first name. No Mr Dutton or whatever his rank was now. This guy didn't deserve any respect.

'I'd hardly call you a child,' his smile was sleazy and he let his eyes travel down to Gail's breasts.

'No, I'm a thirty-two year old woman,' Gail said, her tone still oh so sweet, 'but still younger than your offspring. Now, if you'll excuse me.'

With that, Gail turned and ran smack into Elaine.

'Darling, what's the rush?' Elaine quirked an eyebrow but then, seeing who Gail had been speaking to, said 'Scott' in the chilliest of tones. Remarkably, well to Gail at least, she grabbed Gail by the elbow and said, 'I'm just going to steal my daughter away.'

Once at a safe distance from Scott, Elaine let go of Gail's arm. Gail wasn't sure whether to thank her mother, ask her just how long she'd been aware Scott was a creep, or point out she was capable of standing up for herself. After all she'd been fending off these kind of guys since she was a teenager.

Instead, Gail decided the matter of Holly took precedence. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sasha talking at Holly, who was nodding automatically, her expression somewhat glazed.

'Mother, what are you doing introducing Holly to that woman?' Gail hissed.

'It's a party,' Elaine gave a confected laugh, 'that's what you do.'

Gail made a face.

'Besides, I don't see the problem here. You weren't interested in Sasha and your relationship with Holly ended years ago and they are two single professional women who I imagine would enjoy one another's company. Now go mingle.'

'So what? You're setting them up,' Gail persisted, ignoring her mother's direction.

'Well, I'm not having a lot of success with you.'

'Sasha is an asshat. I told you that,' Gail said, 'so now I need to go rescue Holly.'

'As you wish,' Elaine smiled. It wasn't one of her fake ones either.

Gail was utterly perplexed. Wasn't Elaine going to try and stop her, and why hadn't she told Gail off for calling Sasha an asshat? As Gail approached, Holly glanced up with what Gail could have sworn was a look of relief, but before she could proceed further, she felt an arm snake around her waist.

'Wanna bust out of here?'

Gail felt warm, moist breath against her ear. If Frankie thought she was whispering, she was sadly mistaken. As she finished speaking, Frankie tripped into Gail, who had to put a hand out to steady her.

'Anderson, what the fuck?' Gail exclaimed, quite forgetting where she was. A few heads turned. Hopefully her mother had moved on.

'That's not the way to greet someone who has seen you naked,' Frankie slurred, clearly having taken advantage of the free flowing alcohol. 'Frequently,' she added and then sniggered.

Holly winced. Sasha surveyed Gail with interest. Gail just wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. Was it too much to hope for a sinkhole under the living room floor?

'Gail,' Sasha said, managing to sound reproachful and delighted all at once. 'You never returned my calls.'

'Huh,' was all Gail could manage.

'Is that your schtick? Never answer your phone and leave a girl hanging.'

Shit, did Holly just wince again? How the hell was Gail going to explain this mess to her?

Frankie, possibly with the intention of rescuing Gail (you never could tell with Frankie), winked at Sasha and said, 'Gail's not a great conversationalist, if you get my drift. Anyway, she's been uncover for months.'

Sasha brightened at that. Fuck, now Gail needed to put a stop to any lingering hope the woman harboured that Gail might sign up to be Mrs Beige Jumpsuit.

'That's not why,' she began but the bartender, whose name Gail still could not recall, choose that moment to appear with a tray of champagne.

What kind of special hell had she been consigned to, Gail thought. Really could this night get any worse. As Gail scowled, the photographer from the Toronto Star suddenly inserted himself in front of the group of women.

'Ladies,' he said as the flash on his camera went off, momentarily blinding Gail.

'I need to go,' Holly said, 'my ride's waiting.'

Gail, who was still blinking from the flash, stumbled after Holly. 'Your ride?' she asked, having visions of a wife or fiancée appearing to spirit Holly away, but Holly must have been too far ahead to hear. Either that or she was ignoring Gail.

Holly moved with incredible speed. She seemed hellbent on putting as much distance between them as possible, Gail decided, or maybe she was looking forward to reuniting with whomever was waiting in the car. With a sinking feeling, Gail realised it could be both of these things.

She caught up with Holly at the top of the driveway as a silver Jaguar I-Pace swept towards them. Gail happened to know that, as far as electric cars went, this Jag was considered top of the range. It was a useless fact she'd gleaned, during a particularly uneventful stakeout, from a well-thumbed car magazine which had been left in the stakeout van. It was just the sort of car Gail imagined Holly's partner would drive.

'Holly wait,' she said as Holly moved towards the vehicle.

Holly turned and gave her a small smile. Then the passenger window slid down and a voice said a little teasingly, 'your ride, madam.'

'You're going home with the Commissioner,' Gail squeaked as she realised who the driver was, 'but, but—you and the Commissioner.'

Holly laughed. 'Gail remember,' she pointed to herself, 'gay.'

How could Gail forget. 'Yeah, I know but—'

'I haven't had time to buy a car so Ritchie is giving me a ride to my apartment,' Holly said, 'where I plan on spending the rest of the evening unpacking boxes alone.'

Was it Gail's imagination or did Holly just put extra emphasis on the word 'alone'.

As Gail struggled to make sense of it, Holly walked towards her and, leaning in, placed a soft kiss on her lips. 'Good night, Gail,' she said and hopped into the Jag.


	4. Chapter 4

_At last here is the update—much later than planned but almost three times as long! Thanks for the lovely reviews, favs and follows and for reading._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter. Let me know!_

….

'Hey, feet off my desk,' Dov said, giving Gail's boots a shove so they landed on the floor with a thud, nearly making her fall off the chair.

She was only sitting there because Dov had the most comfortable chair in the pen. He denied it, but Gail was convinced he had procured the plush executive model with extra padding because he flirted with the odd clerk in requisitions who was so chipper it was like Chloe on steroids. Needless to say, for the past year Gail had been trying with no success to replace her chair, which was so old it had a permanent list.

The chipper clerk was of the firm opinion that Gail had a surly attitude, or so she told Dov with a disapproving shake of her head. She informed Gail she was on the chair wait list and needed to be patient, managing to deliver this news in a cheery tone even though her arms were resolutely crossed. When Gail had asked how long the wait list was, the clerk smirked and said 'long' before turning back to her clipboard.

'What the fuck,' Gail snarled as she struggled to sit upright and not lose her balance. She yawned loudly. Until Dov rudely interrupted she'd been enjoying a much needed power nap before her shift started.

It was her first day back after being undercover and she hadn't slept much the night before. Partly it was the alcohol but mainly it was because of Holly. Every time she closed her eyes, Gail replayed scenes from the party until she was literally squirming at how witless she had been around Holly. Even when she fell into a fitful sleep, the image of Holly hurrying away invaded Gail's dreams.

'Hungover or did you stay out too late schmoozing with the top brass,' Dov said, sounding not in the least sympathetic.

Gail removed her sunglasses and rubbed her eyes. 'Aw poor Dov, are you still not over the fact you didn't get an invitation to the party,' she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. 'I told you I'd be happy to trade places.'

'How did Frankie score an invite?' Chris asked as he walked into the bullpen, followed closely by Chloe and Andy.

'Because my mother enjoys messing with me.'

Chris laughed uncertainly. He was holding an iPad and whatever was on the screen had the undivided attention of Chloe and Andy, who huddled around with, if Gail wasn't mistaken, a conspiratorial air (although admittedly sleep deprivation tended to throw her radar off).

'Is that why Holly was there too?' Chloe asked brightly and a little too innocently.

'What are you talking about, Price?' Gail stood suddenly before Dov could tip her off his chair.

'You made the society pages,' Chris held up the iPad for Gail to see.

It was the photo taken by the guy from the Toronto Star just before Holly had made her hasty exit. Frankie looked as though she was artfully draped along Gail's side (even though Gail was actually propping up the inebriated woman). The bartender was hovering at Gail's other elbow with the tray of champagne and a lascivious grin. Next to her, Sasha managed to beam at both the camera and Gail with one of those Hollywood smiles, all teeth and wide lipped, no doubt something she'd perfected in the mirror.

Holly stood a little back as if surveying the unfolding scene, her expression one of faint amusement. And Gail? The camera had caught her wide-eyed and slack mouthed, the flash washing out her skin to a deathly hue. Where the other four women looked elegant (even drunk off her ass Frankie), Gail had the appearance of someone who—

'You look like you've seen a ghost,' Dov supplied with glee. 'Could you get any paler, Caspar.'

'Is Gail the ghost or has she seen the ghost?' Andy pondered. Gail couldn't tell if she was having a dig or trying to help.

'What?' Dov asked confused.

'You called me Caspar. A ghost get it?' Gail rolled her eyes. Andy smirked ever so slightly so perhaps she was on Gail's side.

'Well, maybe you looked in the mirror,' Dov said, catching on.

Gail didn't reply as she had returned to scrutinising the photo, or more specifically Holly. Why was she amused? Maybe she was entertained by Gail's hapless encounters with first the bartender, then Frankie and finally Sasha. If you counted Holly, that was four women Gail had either sleep with or dated all in the same place at the same time and all, with the exception of Holly, seeming to want to make some sort of claim on her. Literally the stuff of nightmares.

On closer inspection, Holly's expression could just as easily pass for a grimace. The kind you give when witnessing something of a train wreck, and feel an equal measure of sympathy and discomfort but more than that an overwhelming urge to look away, to in fact get away. Which is exactly what Holly did, although not before kissing Gail. She was probably reading too much into that, Gail decided, her mood taking a decidedly dejected turn.

'Man, you're a fright,' a voice said from behind her. It was Frankie looking more bright-eyed than she had a right to be. 'What's wring with you Peck? Surrounded by hot women and you look like death warmed up.' She gestured to the iPad which Chris had placed on the desk in front of Gail. 'Anyway, we've got a body. A real one,' she smirked. 'You're with me Peck.' With that, she turned and headed out of the bullpen.

'Great,' Gail said, feeling even more morose. Just her luck to be partnered with Frankie.

'I wonder if Holly will be there,' Chloe said sweetly.

Oh fuck, Gail hadn't thought of that. Maybe she'd get the chance to explain. Not that work was really the place for the sort of conversation she wanted—needed—to have with Holly. That was if Holly was even willing to speak to her. What if the Commissioner had told Holly how Gail had blurted out to him that Holly was the love of her life? Would Holly be angry or just think Gail pathetic to be carrying a torch after all these years or worse still decide Gail was obsessive?

With any luck, Holly and the Commissioner didn't know each other well enough to share personal details. Yeah right, because the way Gail had inextricably opened up to him, a complete stranger, proved he had no trouble by-passing small talk. And why would Holly call the Commissioner Ritchie unless she was very familiar with him? Basically, Gail decided, she was fucked.

'It's Holly's first day back too,' Chloe continued, seemingly unaware of the turmoil Gail was experiencing.

'How did you know that?' Gail asked, wishing she could keep the consternation out of her voice. She had to play this cool. None of them need know that the very mention of Holly sent her into a tail spin.

'We had welcome back drinks with her at the Penny last week,' Andy chimed in.

'You, you,' Gail couldn't quite get the words out. What the fuck was Andy doing anywhere near Holly. As far as she was aware they only knew each other in passing. Back when she and Holly where dating, Gail had avoided introducing Holly to McNally. It had just seemed easier.

'Traci organised it,' Chris said, 'Holly seems really good. Man, that night was a blast.'

'Yeah, Holly's great,' Andy added.

Gails eyes narrowed. The way Andy looked back at her, it was like she wanted her approval. As though liking Gail's ex would make she and Gail closer or something. It was nauseatingly chummy.

'Gods knows why she'd want to hang out with you losers,' Gail finally said, finding herself both wanting and not wanting to hear the details of the cosy little soiree at the Penny. Really, she shouldn't resent her friends for spending time with Holly, or feel that it was on some level a betrayal. After all, they were all free agents, even McNally.

It wasn't jealousy, Gail reasoned, or the fact they had arranged to see Holly in her absence, some might even say behind her back. And she was definitely not going to admit there was any connection between this and the way her insides were twisting in a very unpleasant way. She had probably eaten something off, like one of the fussy hors d'oeuvre at the party. Oh wait, she didn't actually eat anything last night. Must be hunger pangs then or maybe Andy's overtures were literally making her sick.

Anyway, if her friends wanted to make a habit of hanging out with Holly (something which hadn't really happened during Gail and Holly's short-lived relationship, with the exception of Traci and Holly who had worked a number of cases together), had it occurred to them how awkward this could be for Gail? Had they even thought to ask her if she was okay with it? Some friends. Holly was welcome to them.

She was brought out of her reverie by Frankie yelling across the bullpen. 'Chop, chop Peck. Dead men wait for no one.'

'Isn't it time waits for no man,' Gail muttered.

'Or woman,' Chloe gushed and looked at Gail meaningfully.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Gail was certain Chloe wasn't picking her up for being gender prescriptive.

…

'Hey thanks for giving me Candy's number. We had quite the night,' Frankie wriggled her eyebrows as she swung the car out of the station lot. 'I owe you one.'

'Ugh,' Gail rubbed her temples and sunk down into her seat. 'Too much information. Wait,' she sat up suddenly. 'That's her name. Candy?'

Frankie shot her a strange look.

After Holly was whisked away by the Commissioner, Gail had returned to the party to find Frankie trying to hit on a very disinterested and somewhat disgruntled Sasha. Dragging her away under the guise of rescuing Sasha (who appeared to be under the impression Gail planned to return once this mission was accomplished), Gail manoeuvred Frankie into the back garden for some fresh air. Frankie had grumbled and accused Gail of spoiling her game.

'What game,' Gail scoffed, and then had a light bulb moment. 'Here', she reached into her pocket to pull out the piece of paper the bartender had shoved there and handed it to Frankie. 'Call her when the party's over. If you sober up, she might be interested in kicking on.'

Frankie eyed the paper suspiciously. 'I don't want your castoffs.'

Gail sighed. 'Did you notice the woman serving champagne?'

Frankie thought for a moment. 'Oh yeah. She's hot.'

'Well, you might get lucky.' With that Gail stood and went home, not caring that Superintendent Mom would roast her for leaving the party before the last guests.

Strangely there hadn't been a peep out of Elaine either last night or this morning. Maybe she was too flushed with the success of the party to berate Gail. Unfortunately there was no chance her mother was going soft in her old age—no doubt Gail would eventually pay.

'So,' Frankie said, drawing out the word. 'Holly, huh.'

'Holly huh what,' Gail said irritably, hoping Frankie hadn't notice how her cheeks had flushed crimson.

'Holly the one that got away.'

'Who told you that,' Gail snapped.

'I have eyes,' Frankie grinned.

Shit, had she been that obvious last night, Gail wondered. After blabbing to the Commissioner, Gail thought she done a pretty good job of concealing her feelings. Besides, it wasn't like she had really seen much of Holly, let alone spoken to her properly. Frankie et al had seen to that.

'Wait, did you go to Holly's welcome back thing last week,' Gail asked, not at all certain she really wanted an answer.

'I may have been at the Penny that night.'

Gail groaned. 'Tell me you didn't hit on her.'

'What and incur your wrath,' Frankie laughed. 'I know Holly's a no-go zone. The field is clear for you.' The last bit was said as if Frankie was being exceedingly magnanimous.

'It's not like that,' Gail protested.

'Sure,' Frankie said. 'Like I said I have eyes and I saw the way you two looked at each other at the party.'

'As if Frankie. You were three sheets to the wind.'

Frankie chuckled knowingly, which served to irritate Gail even more. It did, however, give Gail pause. Was Frankie right? Had Holly looked at her like Gail was—yeah like what, Gail thought bitterly, like the woman who used every confidence, big or small, and every scrap of personal information, every intimate detail she knew about Holly's life to stomp on her heart. Gail was an asshole and if Holly hadn't suspected as much, she sure as hell knew by the time she walked out the door that day.

After leaving the party, Gail had actually debated going after Holly. The kiss and the pointed way Holly had said she was going home alone had felt like an invitation. But given Holly hadn't given Gail her address or phone number, Gail decided it was probably wistful thinking. Maybe Holly actually meant she'd rather go home and unpack boxes by herself than spend another minute in Gail's company.

Still, Gail had briefly entertained the idea of dropping into 15 to look up Holly's address in the data base before realising that it would be wrong on so many levels. Since Steve's arrest, she'd been careful not to put a step out of line at work, and no question, looking up her ex girlfriend on the police data base would be a flagrant abuse of power. And no matter how Gail looked at it, illegally obtaining Holly's number was definitely a step into stalker territory. But then there was the kiss—if Holly wanted nothing to do with Gail then why kiss her?

Neither she nor Frankie said anything more until they pulled up outside the victim's house. It was cordoned off with tape which extended all the way to the sidewalk. Two rookies had been posted on the perimeter and were doing their best to move on neighbourhood gawkers. Gail noted the forensics van was parked in the driveway. As she and Frankie approached the house, one of the uniforms held up the tape for them to duck under.

'Welcome back Detective Peck,' the rookie said with a smile.

Did she know this woman, Gail thought as she gave a quick nod of acknowledgement. She looked about ten, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Frankie must have noticed Gail's cluelessness for when they were out of earshot she said, 'Officer Bassi. Last intake of rooks.'

Gail screwed up her face. 'That was just before I went undercover. How am I supposed to know who they are.'

'Yeah, well you seem to have made an impression,' Frankie teased.

Gail groaned. 'Tell me she's straight.'

'Completely. I'm just yanking your chain. Your undercover op has been the talk of 15. You're quite the legend.'

Gail had to stop herself from doing a double-take. She a legend? It didn't seem possible. She had just done her job. These days to be a Peck on the force was to be barely tolerated, and Gail had become more accustomed to being viewed with suspicion than anything approaching admiration.

'Why do you think your mother's riding high?' Frankie asked.

'My father's promotion,' Gail started.

'And who generated the good will for that to happen? Paved the way so to speak.'

Surely not her, Gail thought. Frankie must be exaggerating. Gail had to let it go though because they had reached the porch where Officer Moore was standing guard by the front door.

'Body's in the bedroom. First on the left. Forensics are here,' he said, looking pleased he'd managed to deliver this information without tripping up.

'Thanks Gerald.' Having heard the story of how Gail had for months believed this to be his name, Frankie seemed incapable of calling Duncan anything else. Surprisingly, he never corrected her.

'Hey Duncan.' Gail hung back as Frankie went into the house, pretending to take longer to put on her tyvek suit and booties. 'Which dead people doc have we got?'

'Doctor Stewart,' Duncan grinned. 'You probably haven't met her yet but she's very—'

'Very what,' Gail narrowed her eyes at him. Ever since he'd discovered she was a lesbian, Duncan had decided he could do bro talk with Gail, which mainly consisted of telling her how hot he found various women. Had she not been his superior in rank, Gail would have punched him in the arm every time, but instead she patiently (that was perhaps an exaggeration) explained why he shouldn't objectify women.

'Vv-very nice,' Duncan stuttered, shrinking under Gail's gaze.

…

As Gail approached the bedroom, she caught sight of a naked man lying face up in the bed, a bunched sheet covering him from the waist down. He could have been asleep but for the tell-tale foam around his mouth and the rigidity of his body.

Holly had begun to sketch the crime scene, noting the position of the body in relation to other objects in the room. The bedroom was neat to the point of austere and, given nothing seemed out out of place, it was hard to imagine it would offer up something like a murder weapon. The tech was taking photos, starting with an overview of the scene and moving to close-ups of the body.

'Drug overdose,' Gail said from the doorway.

Holly looked up from her sketch pad with a small smile. 'Could be. He may also have had a seizure or ingested poison or none of those things. We won't know until we run the toxicology. And good morning detectives.'

Frankie gave a quick nod.

'Give us twenty minutes to finish documenting the scene and I can walk you through,' Holly said.

If she was surprised, or annoyed, to see Gail, Holly didn't show it. She was entirely professional—pleasant and efficient but with a trace of reserve which only someone who knew her well would notice.

Gail had seen her behave like this at countless other crime scenes. Except in the past there were little signs Holly was pleased to see her. When Gail appeared, the corners of Holly's lips would quirk almost indiscernibly, and her eyes seemed to shine a bit brighter. Not today.

'We'll take a look at the rest of the house,' Frankie said. She nudged Gail, who'd only half been paying attention. It was no more than a small shove to get Gail moving, but Holly noticed. Even though Holly tried to be subtle, she tracked the action, her eyes moving from Frankie to Gail. Then she quickly put her head down and went back to her sketch pad.

The house was small. Two bedrooms, kitchen, living room and bathroom and a pocket handkerchief yard out back. If the ramshackle yard was anything to go by, the victim was not much of a gardener. A neighbour had found the body when he went for a morning run. Heading out, he noticed the front door was wide open, and when it was still like that on his return, went to investigate.

'He's the immediate neighbour. We can go talk to him when we're finished here,' Frankie said. 'Forensics bagged his clothing. He told the uniforms the vic is Gabriel Jackson. Single, no dependents. Lived here about four years. So far we've had no luck getting hold of next of kin.'

Gail nodded. Where the yard was untidy, the house itself, though shabby, was like the bedroom—spick and span. No extraneous clutter on the kitchen benches. Tea towels meticulously folded, and in the living room the sofa cushions were symmetrically aligned.

'Do you think he straightened these before going to bed?' Gail indicated the cushions.

Frankie shrugged. 'No signs of a forced entry. The windows and backdoor were all locked.'

'Hot night to have your windows shut.'

'Maybe he was security conscious and locked up before he went to bed,' Frankie suggested.

'Must be his parents,' Gail indicated a framed family photo on the mantle piece. It appeared to have been taken some years ago, probably when Gabriel was in his late teens judging from his wispy facial hair and narrower frame. He was standing between his mom and dad, with an arm slung around each, and the three of them were caught mid laughter. 'They look close.'

'Yeah,' Frankie agreed, although with a trace of disbelief that anyone would get along with their family.

Their sweep of the inside didn't reveal much more. A few utility bills which Gabriel appeared to be on top of, a stack of takeout menus and a cupboard full of protein powder.

'Clearly a body builder,' Frankie picked up a container of the powder.

'Wow genius,' Gail said sarcastically. They had already searched the second bedroom which had been turned into a home gym with bench press, weights, barbells and even a boxing bag secured from the ceiling by a thick chain.

Gabriel's keys and wallet were on the kitchen table.

'No phone,' Gail noted.

'Probably in the bedroom.' Frankie said.

'Two beer bottles' Gail pulled the items from the recycling bin and placed them in an evidence bag. 'Could mean he had company.'

'Or drank two beers. Hardly excessive.'

'True,' Gail conceded.

Holly and the tech were still finishing up when Frankie and Gail returned to the bedroom so they waited out in the corridor.

'You know what,' Gail said looking at the open front door, beyond which Duncan stood shadow boxing (really the guy was an idiot), 'I reckon whoever left that door open knew Gabriel.'

'How'd you figure that?'

'Like you said, no sign of forced entry. Plus,' Gail jerked her thumb in the direction of the bedroom, 'you gotta admit that looks post-coital in there.'

'Like you said, it was a hot night. Maybe he just liked to sleep naked.'

'Except,' Holly stuck her head around the door jamb, 'judging from the amount of what is almost certainly semen, I think he quite possibly had company just before he died.'

'Urggh, sometimes your job really sucks, Lunchbox'. The nickname, a term of endearment in fact, slipped out before Gail realised what she'd said.

Holly went stock still. Gail coloured.

Frankie coughed. 'Ready for us?' she asked, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

'Yeah,' Holly turned on her heel and disappeared back into the bedroom.

'Lunchbox,' Frankie mouthed at Gail and rolled her eyes.

Frankie wasn't going to let that go in a hurry, Gail realised, knowing she'd have to brace herself for some merciless ribbing. She had only ever admitted to Oliver that she sometimes called Holly 'Lunchbox', and only after they'd been cooped up in a surveillance van for hours, hyped up on sugar, courtesy of the novelty candy Gail had supplied to stave off the boredom.

As Gail entered the room, the tech looked up from packing away the camera equipment and gave her a sympathetic smile. As with Chloe's meaningful look, Gail had no idea what it meant. He was one of the older techs and had been around when Gail and Holly first dated. Did he know something she didn't? Like she didn't stand a chance with Holly. Wait, she already knew that.

And yet there was this little bubble of hope that had stubbornly lodged itself in her chest and refused to budge, no matter how much Gail told herself that it was pointless to hold candle for Holly. She had been doing just that for the last four years so why let go now? Why indeed, apart from the fact that the object of her affection was staring at her curiously. It took a moment for Gail to register that someone—either Holly or Frankie—must have asked her something.

'No signs of a struggle,' she said, hoping this was a suitable response.

It must have been good enough because Holly nodded. 'Almost too neat, don't you think detective?' The way she said detective, it sounded to Gail almost as though Holly was savouring the word. Stupid, Gail berated herself, why would Holly care about her promotion.

'Are you suggesting this is staged?' Gail waved her hand to indicate the body on the bed.

'Bingo' Holly exclaimed, in her excitement letting the professional demeanour slip. 'We put the sheet back as it was.' She indicated where the sheet was bunched around the man's waist. 'But if I pull it back, look.'

Gabriel's arm's were rigidly by his side but his legs were twisted at an odd angle, almost like someone had dumped him there and then straightened his arms.

'Maybe that's just the way he sleep,' Frankie suggested. 'Could he have died of natural causes?' Frankie asked.

'Possible on both counts,' Holly conceded, 'but do you sleep with your eyes open, detective?'

'Depends who I'm sharing my bed with.'

'Plus the angle of his legs looks all wrong,' Gail offered, ignoring Frankie.

'Yep and there is something too ordered about this room,' Holly, like Gail ignored Frankie, focussing her attention solely on Gail. 'Not a speck of dust on the nightstands or the bedside lamps.'

'Like someone wiped them down,' Gail said.

'Yep,' Holly nodded.

'Or Gabriel was a neat freak. The rest of the house was the same. Maybe he cleaned the house before he went to bed. Not everybody is a slob like you, Peck,' Frankie said, 'but at least you change your sheets regularly.'

Holly didn't say anything but pushed her glasses back up her nose even though they hadn't slipped down. Gail had always found it an endearing habit, although it hadn't taken her long to figure out it was something Holly usually did she when she was uncomfortable. Why the hell did Frankie have to keep saying things that indicated she knew Gail as much more than a colleague.

To make matters worse Frankie scratched at her collar, in the process revealing a large hickey. Holly took it all in, her gaze travelling from the angry mark on Frankie's neck to Gail, who for some baffling reason blushed again. Self-sabotage, she supposed. Although ever since Holly showed up, she seemed to have been blushing an awful lot.

Holly turned away from the two detectives. 'We'll know more once we do the autopsy. Based on his body temperature and the ambient temp in the room, I'd say he's been dead eight to ten hours. Rigor mortis has set in completely which fits that time line.'

'So could have been around midnight,' Frankie said.

'Yep,' Holly agreed, but her voice was now clipped. 'We're ready to bag up the body. Anything else you need before we head back to the morgue?

'Have you come across Gabriel's phone?' Gail asked.

Holly shook her head. 'Sort of thing you usually keep on the night stand.'

'Maybe he left it in a jacket pocket,' the tech suggested.

A search of the wardrobe and chest of drawers revealed nothing. Gail even got down on her hands and knees to check under the bed.

'We've already looked there,' Holly pointed out.

'Doesn't hurt to double check,' Gail replied as she straightened up.

Holly shrugged indifferently.

'Not that Detective Peck is suggesting you can't do your job,' Frankie said, sounding to all intents helpful. 'She just likes to be very, very thorough.' Frankie drew out the last three words, her voice low and a little husky. If Gail didn't know better she'd think Frankie was trying to hit on Holly (maybe she just couldn't help herself). Frankie wasn't done though. 'Qualities I've always admired in a woman,' she added and for good measure leered at Holly.

'Frankie,' Gail hissed at the same time as the tech dropped a piece of equipment he had been packing away on his toes and swore.

'Are you okay?' Holly asked, plainly relieved to have something other than Frankie and Gail to focus on.

'Just clumsy,' The tech said, grimacing from the pain.

'Call Gail when you've got something to tell us about the body,' Frankie said, ignoring the tech's discomfort.

'Ah, yeah. Sure.' Holly was distracted and then suddenly hesitant. 'Um. Is your—.'

'My number's the same,'Gail said, guessing this was the issue.

'Um,' Holly looked down at her boots. 'I don't think I have it anymore.'

That stung. She had been erased, Gail realised as she wordlessly handed her card to Holly. It wasn't a smooth transaction as Gail had to unzip the tyvek suit and dig around in her back packet.

Frankie magicked her card from somewhere in one smooth motion and with none of the palaver Gail had gone through. 'You better take mine as well,' she said and winked. Actually winked. Holly obviously wasn't certain of what she'd just seen, and blinked before pushing her glasses back up her nose.

'Coming Peck,' Frankie said as she headed out of the room. To Gail it sounded almost as though Frankie were summoning a dog and she resisted the urge to say 'woof, woof'.

'Sure you'll be okay?' she asked the tech instead, feeling a need to make up for Frankie's obnoxious behaviour. Frankie had barely given the poor guy a second glance.

'Yeah, it's just a bruise,' he nodded, 'but thanks.'

Gail sensed Holly observing the exchange, and when she turned the pathologist had tilted her head just a little and a half smile had formed on her lips. With a quick nod, Gail followed Frankie out into the corridor.

'No need to thank me, Peck,' Frankie said, even though they were still within earshot of Holly.

'Huh,' Gail managed.

By now they had reached the front door.

'For sending you to the morgue.' At least this time Frankie lowered her voice.

'And just why do I have to thank you for that?' Gail asked but Frankie ignored her, having already gone ahead. If her swagger was anything to go by she was entirely pleased with herself. Gail frowned. What the hell was Frankie playing at?

'How'd you like the new dead people doc?' Duncan suddenly popped up before her on the porch, looming too close like an over eager puppy, and yet somehow managing to seem lecherous, at least so it seemed to Gail in her current t frame of mind.

'Dr Stewart is a lesbian,' Gail cut him off, the pleasure she'd normally get from crushing his hopes tinged by the realisation that this wasn't her information to share. Holly didn't hide her sexuality but Gail was well aware it was up to Holly to choose who she told.

Surprisingly Duncan didn't look the least crestfallen. 'I know,' he said, nodding enthusiastically. 'I thought maybe you two—' his voice petered off as Gail's scowl deepened.

'Word of advice, Duncan,' Gail said sweetly, too sweetly so that Duncan swallowed. By now he was used to the vagaries of her moods but he still hadn't figured out how to decipher if she was really mad, a bit mad or just winding him up. 'For you,' Gail continued, 'thinking is overrated.'

Duncan did his best not to look deflated, puffing out his chest and straightening to his full height. 'I just have a feeling you two could be good to—'

'Don't', Gail cut across Duncan, this time shooting him a death glare that stopped him in his tracks.

What the fuck was going on, Gail wondered as she trudged after Frankie. First Frankie and now Duncan were playing Cupid. And she could of sworn Chloe was dropping hints and going all gooey-eyed about Holly, or at least the prospect of Gail seeing Holly again. Had the three of them taken up where Elaine had left off now Gail had imposed the matchmaking ban or had she woken up in some kind of alternate universe?

Over the next few hours, Gail did her best to push thoughts of Holly to the back of her mind. She and Frankie didn't learn much from the neighbours. Gabriel had largely kept to himself but when they had reason to speak, he was unfailingly pleasant and had, on occasion, helped out his immediate neighbours with tasks like shovelling snow from driveways or stringing up Christmas lights (which was a thing in the street apparently). They couldn't recall him having a partner or indeed many visitors and thought he worked for an accountancy firm.

'Didn't seem dull enough to be an accountant,' a guy called Ben said. He was the neighbour who had found Gabriel. 'The opposite really. He was a cool dude. Had quite a dry sense of humour.'

'You said no girlfriend,' Gail looked up from her notebook, 'how about a boyfriend?'

'Boyfriend?' Ben looked surprised. 'He was too much of a dude for that, if you know what I mean.'

Gail quirked an eyebrow. 'Too masculine?' She asked without a trace of irony.

'Yeah too—' Ben stopped when Gail's eyebrow went a little higher.

'I guess it takes all kinds,' he shrugged. 'Come to think of it, I don't remember many women visiting.'

Just as Gail and Frankie finished canvassing, Dov called to say he'd had no luck tracing next of kin. Gabriel's mother and father had been killed in a car crash four years earlier, about the time Gabriel bought the semi-detached house. His sister died as a baby from crib death, and both parents were only children.

'Any grandparents alive?' Frankie asked.

'All deceased. I'll keep digging,' Dov promised. 'I do have an address for Gabriel's place of work. It's one of those dial a lawyer call centres.'

'Gabriel wasn't an accountant?' Frankie asked.

'Not unless he was moonlighting.'

The law call centre wasn't flash. Located in a strip mall, it consisted of a small reception area behind which stretched rows of cramped work cubicles delineated by flimsy partitions. At the back of the long room was an office with a plaque on the door which read 'senior partner'. It was a rather grand title given the threadbare carpet and scuffed walls. Gail wondered when the place had last been cleaned.

'I'm the one and only partner. Basically I own the business,' Paul Curran, explained to Gail and Frankie. He actually looked more like a suburban accountant than a lawyer, with a slight pot belly and round face with steel rimmed glasses. He wore a tie with a short-sleeved white shirt tucked into suit trousers that definitely were bought off the rack. More polyester than wool.

Curran had to move files and papers off the two visitors' chairs so Gail and Frankie could sit down.'Geez that's sad,' he said on learning the reason for their visit. 'Gab was a nice guy. Good worker too. Man, I'm not looking forward to telling my staff.'

'Was he close to any of his colleague?' Frankie asked.

Curran shook his head. 'Most of those guys out there,' he jerked his thumb in the direction of the cubicles, 'barely made it through law school. Probably couldn't get a job anywhere else but Gab was smart.'

'So what made him,' Gail paused.

'End up in a palace like this,' Paul finished for her. 'Don't worry detective, I know what I do is only three steps removed from being a shyster.'

Three steps, Gail thought, try one.

'Gab used to work for Blake, Lefleur and Fullbright,' Paul continued.

'That's one of Toronto's top ten law firms,' Gail said in surprise. 'What made him leave?'

'Developed a cocaine habit that started interfering with work. Apparently until then he was on the fast track. A bit of a golden boy. Anyway, most law firms wouldn't touch him after that even though half the partners in those blue chip firms are at it.'

'And Gabriel disclosed this when he applied for a job?' Frankie asked.

'He was totally upfront. He'd done a stint in rehab and was clean. Took up weight training and channelled his energy into being fit and healthy. Gab said he liked it here because it was low stress compared to his other job.'

'How long did he work here'

'I can look up his start date, but must be coming up to four years.'

'Did he have a partner?'

Curran shook his head. 'He never mentioned anyone. Some of the girls on the floor tried to flirt with him—he is,' Curran stopped and corrected himself, 'was a good-looking guy but he didn't seem interested. I thought maybe he was gay but like I said he never mentioned anything or anyone.'

Back in the car, Frankie asked, 'How'd you know so much about that law firm?'

'One of the blind dates my mom set me up with.'

'Should've figured,' Frankie laughed mirthlessly. 'Before or after Holly?'

'Before. Man, he was something else. Gregory Phillip Medcalf the fifth.'

Frankie sniggered. 'I swear the Superintendent was trying to turn you gay.'

Gail and Gregory had barely sat down when he informed her that he came from old money and that his family had settled in Toronto back in the 1794 when it was still called Fort York. He was the youngest person ever to become an associate at Blake, Lefleur and Fullbright and on track to make junior partner, a turn of events that, with every word Gregory uttered, Gail became more and more convinced was due to his connections rather than his aptitude.

The way Gregory looked at her after he delivered this information about his pedigree, it was as though he expected Gail to swoon and beg him to impregnate her with his babies then and there. She'd made her excuses before dessert and turned up at Holly's place, demanding her new friend feed her real food and speak to her normally.

'Normally,' Holly had smiled lopsidedly.

'Just tell me about your day, nerd,' Gail said as she helped herself to a beer from the refrigerator and flopped down on the sofa.

'It involves a dead body.'

'Yeah.'

'Some people wouldn't think that a normal topic of conversation.'

'Holly, I am not some people. With that big brain of yours, you should have figured that out by now.'

'I think I kinda have,' Holly grinned. 'Okay, you asked for it.'

After which she launched into a detailed description of the autopsy she had performed that day, only pausing when Gail piped up with a question or came up with her own theories about how the victim had met his demise. For the most part though, Gail was content to listen to Holly.

Somehow Gail ended up stretched full length on the sofa, her feet in Holly's lap. As Holly kept speaking, Gail (who by now had had several beers) let her eyes drift to Holly's lips and she found herself wondering what it might be like to really kiss Holly. Not like the kiss at the wedding, which was no more than a brief press of the lips, leaving Gail wanting more and peeved that Holly had immediately left.

In the days following the wedding, Gail had convinced herself the kiss meant nothing, that the frisson she was certain they both had felt was the result of too much champagne. That and the faint overtone of illicitness in the kiss, the sort that comes from not actually crossing a line but flirting with the idea.

Besides Holly had made it clear she was done with dating straight women, having found herself an experiment not once but twice, even though both women had sworn their interest in Holly was genuine. Later, when she and Holly began to date, Gail had offered to run their names through the database to see if they had outstanding tickets. Holly had laughed at the idea—a delectable revenge was how she described it—but made Gail swear she wouldn't dare. 'You're too nice, Stewart,' Gail had teased. It had seemed incomprehensible that anyone would hurt Holly. Oh wait, she had gone and done just that.

…

'Cocaine,' Holly said, 'that makes sense.'

'It does?' Gail asked.

She and Holly were alone in the autopsy suite. Holly's minions, as Gail used to call them, having been dispersed to run various tests on the samples taken from the body. Frankie was chasing up Gabriel's next of kin. It was late in the afternoon and under the harsh fluorescent lights Holly looked tired and uncharacteristically washed out.

'Yeah. Gabriel died as a result of cardiac arrest.'

'He did?' Gail frowned. 'He's was 34 and fit.' Maybe exercise was overrated.

As if reading her mind, Holly said, 'Don't quit your exercise regime, detective.' The teasing note in her voice was almost flirtatious or perhaps Gail just being foolishly optimistic.

'Who said I had one. You know I hate sports.'

'So you claim,' Holly smiled.

'Just blessed with a fast metabolism,' Gail shrugged, omitting that she ran regularly now and made time to train in the police gym. 'But what's this guy's story—did he have a congenital heart defect or something?'

'There's no evidence of that. However, cardiac arrest among young cocaine users aged 15 to 35 is well documented and much more common than you'd expect, particularly among habitual users.'

'Apparently Gabriel had got clean.'

'Let's see what tox screen says. The lab is not too busy so I'm hoping we'll have the results back in about two days.'

Gail nodded. Unlike TV shows where autopsies seemed to be performed in no time at all and the toxicology report came back instantly, it actually took days and sometimes even weeks to complete all the associated tests. The autopsy itself usually chewed up the good part of a day, which was Gail hadn't needed to show until now.

'Still, it sounds like we shouldn't be treating this as a homicide.'

'Except it looks like someone did wipe down the place,' Holly said. 'The beer bottles came back clean.'

'Perhaps Gabriel's companion panicked,' Gail suggested.

'It's possible but that's awfully methodical.'

'Could be someone connected to law enforcement then. Someone who knew about finger prints.'

'I guess,' Holly nodded, 'or anyone who's watched an episode of Law and Order.

'Fair point. I should let Frankie know.'

'Yes,' Holly's face clouded. 'You and Frankie–'

'Over a long time ago,' Gail replied hurriedly. 'It was,' she paused, trying to find the right word.

'It's none of my business, sorry,' Holly said. She started to busy herself with various vials and instruments on the countertop, even though the techs had already cleared away.

'It was convenient,' Gail said, hoping that would make it clear to Holly.

'Ah,' Holly looked up from what she was doing, 'I fell into an inappropriate relationship when I got to San Francisco and let it drag on far too long.'

Gail blinked but then somehow managed to keep her expression neutral. There was no denying it hurt to think of Holly finding solace with someone so soon after the two of them had separated.

'Frankie and me,' Gail shook her head rapidly, 'it was never a relationship. It suited us for a while and then it didn't.'

'Yeah' Holly nodded in understanding, 'I'm not sure what Melinda and I had could be described as a relationship either.'

Melinda. Well, now Gail had a name. Given Holly had been exposed to a parade of Gail's exes and wannabes last night, it seemed just retribution that Gail must learn about Melinda. She hated her already. Was it better not actually knowing the woman? Holly, at least, had the advantage of having met Frankie and it must be obvious to her that the detective had no claim on Gail's heart. Then again, perhaps Holly didn't care one jot who Gail gave her heart to.

'Inappropriate how?' Gail blurted out. Did she really want to know?

'Temperamentally unsuited.' Holly shrugged like it was no big deal but Gail suspected something far more messy lay behind the glib response.

'And?'

'And she wanted serious. I didn't.'

'Do you want to go get a drink,' Gail found herself saying in a rush, made courageous by the fact they had strayed onto personal ground.

'Don't you need to report back to Detective Anderson,' Holly titled her head and smiled, 'besides I have plans.'

'Oh yeah of course,' Gail looked down at her feet. It sounded like a date.

'I promised to catch up with Richie.' Holly sounded apologetic.

Ah, Ritchie. Gail had wanted to ask about the Commissioner but couldn't think of a way to bringing him up. How to ask whether the complete stranger she'd spilled her guts to had revealed her up to now carefully guarded secret.

'About the Commissioner. How do you know him?'

'Second cousin. We share great grand-parents on my mother's side.'

'Oh,' Gail said, trying to picture how that might look on a family tree. 'So are you two close?'

'Well, you know my family.'

Gail didn't but Holly's descriptions of how well her extended family got along made the whole set-up sound quite wonderful—a little crazy and intense yes, but in a good way—and for Gail, with her less stellar experience of family, also daunting. The Stewarts actually liked seeing each other, in fact looked forward to it, planning vacations together and gathering en mass to celebrate Christmas and other special holidays and to mark the very many milestones attendant on such a large group.

It was practically like something out of a 50's sitcom, Gail had thought when Holly told her about the Stewart clan, almost too good to be true, while at the same time hankering for a little of that comity in her own family. Not that she'd ever told Holly any of those things.

When she had moved to Toronto that first time, Holly (who confessed to Gail that all that familial closeness could occasionally be suffocating) had found the absence of family at once liberating and lonely. Gail suspected it was more of the latter.

'Richie's much older than me so I guess he was more like an uncle.'

'You never mentioned you had a relative on the force.'

Holly frowned. 'I'm sure I did. Richie's the one who encouraged me to think about forensics as a career. You know all the rest of my family are surgeons or medical specialists of some kind. Richie and I are the outliers.'

'Oh, so you did,' Gail had a flash of a conversation in a booth at the Penny. They weren't dating then—just friends—but they were several tequila shots and an equal number of beers in and where sitting shoulder to shoulder, heads bowed together so they could hear each other above the noise of the bar. 'The rebel Stewarts', Gail said, remembering how she'd insisted on toasting Holly and her cousin. 'Oh, I assumed he was a Stewart.'

Holly laughed in a way that made Gail think she might be remembering that night too.

'So did the Commissioner mention what we talked about?' Gail asked, doing her best to sound casual.

Holly gave her an odd look. 'Only that he'd met you and was impressed.'

Gail rolled her eyes at that. Yeah, sure, she thought to herself, either Richie impresses easily or he had a soft spot for lunatic lame asses.

'Why, what did you say to him?' Holly arched an eyebrow.

'Say? Um nothing,' Gail felt herself flushing and pushed at her collar to loosen it.

Holly regarded her sceptically, clearly aware of Gail's discomfort. Gail realised she needed to come up with a plausible explanation.

'I just said some things about my mother.' That wasn't a lie. She'd actually been quite imprudent—her mother would probably say disloyal.

Holly laughed. 'Richie is very good at getting people to open up.'

She wasn't wrong about that, Gail thought, although it was more like he tricked you into baring your soul. No wonder he was a successful cop.

'But Richie is also very discreet so I'm sure nothing will get back to the Superintendent.'

'Yeah, well I should get back to 15.'

'Okay,' Holly said slowly, like she was buying to time to consider what to say next. 'But maybe another time.'

'Another time what?' Gail asked, not following Holly's train of thought.

'A drink. We could go for a drink.' Now Holly was awkward, and she added hastily, 'or not if that's not what you want.'

'Yes,' Gail cut in quickly, almost before Holly finished speaking. 'I mean yes to a drink,' Gail clarified.

'Good.' Holly nodded her head as if satisfied that they had negotiated an acceptable compromise.

'Okay,' Gail found herself backing out the door.

'You'll call me?' Holly asked.

There was something in her expression Gail couldn't quite place. It only occurred to her later that Holly was doing her best not to seem anxious, but about what Gail couldn't say. Perhaps for Holly grabbing a drink with Gail was nothing more than a burden, something she needed to do to clear air so she and Gail could work together without any baggage getting in the way. There was, of course, a chance Holly was worried Gail wouldn't follow through and call her.

'Sure,' Gail said. It was only when she was back in the car and on her way to 15 that Gail realised she didn't have Holly's number.

…

'Guess who repeatedly called Gabriel over the last month?' Frankie asked before Gail had a chance to relay Holly's preliminary findings.

The detective pen had that buzz that comes with a break in a case. Gail could see it in the faces of her colleagues and the way they held themselves—keen and sharp like bloodhounds on the scent.

'Ah,' Gail hedged.

'Your old beau. Gregory Metcalf the fifth,' Frankie said.

'He wasn't my beau,' Gail started but Frankie ignored her.

'Dov pinged Metcalf's phone. He was in the vicinity of Gabriel's house last night.' Frankie continued.

'And I pulled up CCTV footage that shows Metcalf's car turning onto Gabriel's street at 9.10 pm and exiting it just after midnight,' Dov added, looking pleased as punch.

Wanna go interview a suspect?' Frankie was already putting on her jacket.

'Ah before you get too excited, it may be an accidental death. Doesn't mean Metcalf wasn't there but Holly thinks Gabriel had a cardiac arrest. Could have been caused by drugs but she won't know until the tox screen is back.'

'Okay,' Frankie stilled but didn't take her jacket off. It was as though the wind had literally been taken out of her sails. 'I still think we should speak to Metcalf. If he was there let's not give him time to cover his tracks.'

'Agreed,' Gail nodded. 'Nice work, Dov.'

Dov gave her the thumbs up. 'I'm trying to see if I can place Metcalf at Gabriel's house at any other time in the last month.'

'Oh Gail,' Chloe piped up, 'how was Holly?'

'What?' Gail screwed up her face.

'It being her first day and all,' Chloe smiled.

'Professional. Efficient. Everything you'd expect of an interdepartmental colleague.'

'Oh.' Chloe looked crestfallen.

'Geez Price, if it means so much to you why don't you ask Holly yourself,' Gail snarked.

…..

'You're a detective now,' Gregory Metcalf the fifth looked at Gail appraisingly, taking in her short hair, leather jacket and combat boots. 'And bat for the other team. Good thing I didn't feel any spark.' The last was said as if that lack was entirely Gail's fault.

'Yeah,' Gail said, choosing to ignore Metcalf's jab and restraining herself from mentioning he had called her several times after the date. 'Seems like a few things have changed since we met.' She indicated a wedding photo in the bookcase behind Metcalf's desk.

It was strategically positioned so people sitting across the desk from him couldn't help but notice it. Did Metcalf have a point to prove about his sexuality, Gail wondered. His bride was attractive in that bland way where all her features were completely symmetrical and well proportioned but there was nothing distinguishing about them. No little quirk that made her truly beautiful or in fact memorable Gail decided, finding herself thinking of Holly's lopsided smile.

'Ah yes,' Metcalf beamed, 'And two children.' He indicated another photo which, like the one from the wedding, was clearly professionally shot. It was staged in a wood with the shafts of sunlight coming through the trees bathing the tousled-haired children and their parents in a golden glow. In the photo Metcalf surveyed his family with a self-satisfied air. Everything about the image from the bucolic setting to the family's designer brand outfits and expensive hair cuts conveyed privilege and entitlement. 'My family,' Metcalf added smugly, as if to say to Gail look what you missed out on.

'So,' Frankie cleared her throat, 'did you know Gabriel Harrison well?'

'We were in the same intake of junior associates. It was a sad business. If not for the drugs, Gabriel would have had a great future ahead of him,' Metcalf said.

'So did you keep in contact once he left the firm.'

'I occasionally ran into him.'

'Do recall when you might have last seen him?'

'What are you getting at detective?'

'It's a simple enough question.' Frankie held out her hands.

'When do you think I last saw him?'

Frankie exchanged a glance with Gail and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

'We have evidence that puts you at Gabriel's house between 9.15 pm and midnight last night,' Gail said.

'Oh,' Metcalf said, suddenly less smug. 'I can explain.'

'Why don't you,' Gail said, only just managing to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

'He called me, said he was using again and wanted help.'

'So you went round and discussed rehab options.'

'Pretty much.'

'With a guy you've barely kept in contact with?' It was a flimsy story. Given Metcalf was a lawyer, Gail had expected he'd come up with something more believable.

'The call was kinda out of the blue.' Metcalf shifted in his chair and blinked rapidly. A classic tell he was lying. 'But he sounded desperate, you know.'

'And apart from that call, you hadn't spoken to Gabriel for how long,' Frankie leaned forward.

Metcalf wasn't stupid. He would know they could access Gabriel's phone records. 'Um, we talked a few times recently,' he said, 'but I swear Gabriel seemed okay when I left. Said he was going to get his life back on track.'

'Did you and Gabriel have sex before you left?' Frankie asked casually.

'No!' Metcalf was indignant but he'd started to sweat, and there was a hollowness to his outrage that convinced Gail it was confected.

'So you wouldn't mind taking a DNA test.'

'I think I don't want to continue this interview without my lawyer being present.'

'Fair enough,' Frankie said easily. She and Gail stood. 'We can continue this down at the station.'

Gail pulled out her phone and Frankie looked at her quizzically.

'Sorry,' Gail apologised as she punched in a number. 'Gotta make a call.' As she put the phone to her ear, there came the muffled sound of a phone ringing from somewhere within Metcalf's desk. 'Care to tell us why you have Gabriel Harrison's phone in your possession,' Gail asked coolly.

'And don't tell us you were looking after it so Gabriel wouldn't call his drug dealer,' Frankie added drily.

'I' Metcalf looked as though he were about to do just that. 'I guess I better come clean.'

It emerged that back when they were first year associates, Metcalf had hooked up with Gabriel. 'Not that I'm gay,' Metcalf was quick to point out, 'it was just a dalliance. Purely psychical. I identify as heterosexual.'

Whatever, Gail thought, realising this dalliance had taken place about the time Elaine had dispatched her on the disastrous date with Metcalf. 'I really felt I had found someone well suited to you,' Elaine had huffed when she called the next morning to check how the date had gone. 'Perhaps you need to learn how to be less picky.' Gail was going to enjoy telling Elaine just how far off base she was.

Metcalf claimed the trysts ended when Gabriel was tossed out of the firm. He vehemently denied using cocaine then or on the night Gabriel died. Again his protestations seemed forced and Gail was inclined not to believe him.

'Gabriel's boss said Gabriel had been clean for years,' she pointed out.

'Well, people fall off the wagon,' Metcalf said, and then added, 'sadly.' It was automatic rather than heartfelt.

'So you and Gabriel ran into each other two months ago and hooked up again,' Frankie looked up from her note pad.

'Yes,' Metcalf was impatient. 'Do we need to go over this again.'

'Just making sure we have our facts right. I'm sure as a lawyer you appreciate the importance of that.'

Metcalf didn't reply.

'So last night you went to Gabriel's house and the two of you had sex and when you left he was alive and showing no signs of being unwell or in distress.'

'As I said, he seemed fine.'

'And he had used cocaine but you didn't.'

'Correct,' Metcalf shook his head as if saying no. It was another classic tell that someone was lying, the body literally contradicting what was coming out of its mouth.

'So if we were to ask around, speak to some of the dealers we know, your name wouldn't mean anything to them?' Gail asked.

'Um,' Metcalf blew out a breath. He was really sweating now. Having loosened his tie earlier, he now took off his suit coat. It revealed two large wet patches under his arms.

Frankie and Gail waited him out, never taking their eyes off him but not saying anything either. The room had a charged sort of silence, broken occasionally by the muffled sound of chatter that drifted into the office from the corridor as people began to leave work.

'Okay,' Metcalf sighed, finally crumbling under their scrutiny. 'I'm not going to admit possession of cocaine but I had a line when I got to Gabriel's. We had sex. I was leaving when it happened.'

'When what happened?' Frankie prompted.

'He started clutching his chest and gasping for breath. God it was awful.'

For you or Gabriel, Gail wanted to ask.

'And you didn't think to call an ambulance,' Frankie said.

'It was so fast. He was dead before I could do that.'

'And you ascertained this how?'

'I checked his pulse. And then I panicked. I didn't want my wife or the firm to find out I'd been seeing Gabriel. You must appreciate what it would do to my career and standing in this town. I quickly wiped down anything I remembered touching, including the beer bottles. Then I took Gabriel's phone and left. That was stupid, because of course you'd access his phone records. You don't have my DNA on record so I wasn't worried about that.'

'But you wiped down surfaces.'

'I visited Japan last year. They fingerprint you when you enter the country.'

'Sounds like you were pretty cool headed,' Gail observed.

'Believe me, I wasn't. Had I been thinking rationally I would have contacted the police immediately,' Metcalf made an apologetic gesture with his hands. 'As it stands, I have unnecessarily cast doubt on my actions and I'm afraid wasted your time, but I was in a state of shock, absolute shock.' It was the sophistry of a lawyer but they couldn't exactly arrest him for being a selfish asshole who cared more about his reputation than his lover.

'Any chance we can keep this on the down low,' Metcalf asked. 'There's no point in it getting around.'

….

Chloe called just after they left the offices of Blake, Lefleur and Fullbright. Gail was standing on the sidewalk while Frankie went to retrieve the car.

'I found Gabriel's next of kin,' Chloe said, sounding if anything glum.

'And,' Gail prompted.

'And all he wanted to know was if he stood to inherit anything.'

'Brutal.'

Chloe struggled when faced with the worst of humanity, which Gail imagined must sometimes make this job tough

'He's a second cousin so I guess they weren't close,' Chloe sighed.

Second cousins seemed to be popping up all over the place, Gail thought, immediately picturing Holly and the Commissioner.

'How did it go with Metcalf?' Chloe asked.

'He was there. Saw Gabriel die but ran rather than call anyone. If he's telling the truth, it was accidental.' As Gail finished speaking, Frankie pulled up to the curb. 'Hey, Frankie's here. We'll see you back at the station,' she told Chloe before disconnecting.

….

'Ha, you'd think Metcalf would have switched off Gabriel's phone,' Dov shook his head in wonderment. 'How dumb is that.'

'Said he wasn't thinking rationally,' Frankie shrugged. 'Shock apparently.'

'I called Dr Stewart,' Dov said, 'updated her on your interview with Metcalf.'

'You called Holly,' Chloe slapped Dov in the arm and he let out a small 'ouch'.

'Yeah. What's wrong? I was being efficient.'

'Gail should have called Holly,' Chloe was clearly annoyed.

'Why?' Gail asked.

'I mean,' Chloe turned to Gail, 'you're the one dealing with forensics. It makes sense.'

'Yeah?' Gail was sceptical. 'Well, I don't have a hotline to Holly. I don't even have her number.' She sat down at her desk and was logging onto the computer when her phone pinged.

'There,' Chloe beamed before Gail had a chance to check her phone. 'The Holly hotline.'

…..

Gail got to the Penny early. She placed her phone on the bar countertop and ordered a shot of tequila and then another. Liquid courage. She desperately wanted to call Holly but something was stopping her. Fear of rejection, she supposed. It was easier believing she still had a chance with Holly, but if that hope was crushed, well she'd probably ask for a transfer to Vancouver. After the undercover job they said she'd be welcome back anytime.

'I can see why you made detective.' It was Holly's voice, warm and a little teasing and, if Gail wasn't mistaken, impressed. 'Must have set the record for fastest case solved.'

'My Agatha Christie moment,' Gail scoffed. 'A lucky guess.' She hadn't seen Holly since the autopsy two days before.

'Yeah,' Holly sounded sceptical.

'Drink?' Gail asked, motioning to the bartender.

'My shout,' Holly put her hand on Gail's forearm. 'It's the least I can do for Hercules Poirot.'

'The guy with the bad moustache,' Gail protested, 'I'd rather be Miss Marple.' Holly's hand was still on her arm, barely resting there but enough that Gail felt the pressure.

'That sweet little old lady, I don't think so,' Holly scoffed as the bartender placed two shot glasses in front of them. She removed her hand to fish a credit card out of her back pocket, and Gail immediately felt its absence. 'Bottoms up, as Miss Marple would say.' Holly tipped up the shot glass.

'Would she? Did she even drink alcohol?'

"Probably sherry which she'd sip demurely. I don't know. I never read Agatha Christie.'

'Me neither,' Gail said. They fell silent then. Gail was trying to think of something to say when Holly nodded toward her phone on the bar countertop.

'You never called me.'

'You never gave me your number.'

'Oh. I didn't think of that.' Holly pulled out her phone and found Gail's contact. Gail felt her phone ding in her pocket. 'There. No excuse now.' Holly smiled.

'Well, you could have called me.'

'And what, take a number behind the legions of women running after Gail Peck.'

Gail screwed up her face. 'It's not like that. I haven't had sex in so long I think I've forgotten how.'

'You!' Holly laughed in disbelief, and swung around to face the patrons behind them, leaning her elbows on the bar counter. The room had become crowded now as people drifted in after the shift change to join the patrons who never seemed to go home. 'I'm sure you could find someone out there willing to fix that for you.'

'Thing is,' Gail said, also swivelling around to mirror Holly's pose, 'I'm like your Melinda. Definitely over one night stands.'

'First she's not my Melinda and secondly I could be serious with the right person. She wasn't the right one.'

'Did you break her heart?'

'What? No. Maybe a little. She was mad at me but then she started a new relationship within weeks. Apparently they're married now so she can't have been too heartbroken.'

'That must have hurt.'

'Melinda getting married?'

'No, the speed with which she moved on.'

'Honestly, I was relieved.'

Whereas for Gail, even four years on, learning that Holly had jumped into a relationship so soon after she arrived in San Francisco made her feel like her heart had been ripped out of her chest and stomped on. Dramatic much, Gail chided herself.

'So what will happen to the man who was with Gabriel the night he died,' Holly asked, clearly wanting to move the conversation on. It didn't bother Gail. She really didn't want to think about Melinda anymore than she had to.

'He'll get a slap on the wrist for not reporting Gabriel's death.'

'What about the drugs?'

'He denies using cocaine or supplying to Gabriel and we can't spare the resources to prove otherwise,' Gail shrugged.

'More urgent cases,' Holly nodded in understanding.

'Did you know my mom sent me on a blind date with the guy. Gregory Metcalf the fifth.'

'Oh god I remember. You came over to my place after. Actually you cut the date short.'

'I always cut the dates short back then.'

Holly laughed. 'Might have had something to do with dating the wrong kind of people.'

'I was a slow learner.'

'I wouldn't have said that.' Holly's smile was a little knowing, maybe even flirtatious and the innuendo plain.

Gail wanted to say something smart and sassy but her mind had gone blank save for the thought that Holly, despite the time that had passed and the hurtful things Gail had said, might actually still be interested in her. Perhaps her feelings were not entirely one-sided.

Holly mistook Gail's silence for something altogether different—indifference perhaps or discomfort—and bit her lip, not in a coy way but rather out of fear she had over stepped. Before Gail had a chance to reassure Holly that this notion was so far from the truth it may as well be in a different universe, Chris appeared.

'Oh hey,' he said, 'Chloe's grabbed a booth.'

'About time you losers got here,' Gail said.

'Um it's only just past 6.30,' Chris said genially.

'Yeah and Price said 6 pm.'

'No it was definitely 6.30,' Chris insisted, digging out his phone from his back pocket and scrolling through his messages. 'See,' he held up the phone to show a text from Chloe.

'That's weird,' Holly looked at her phone, 'she messaged me to say 6 pm.'

'So Price is numerically dyslectic,' Gail said, 'wait she invited you.' Gail frowned at Holly.

'Uh yeah,' Holly jiggled her phone back and forth to show the message. 'Um are you okay with that? I kinda got the impression from Chloe you knew I'd be here. That it would be a bunch of us. You know a general celebrate the end of a case kind of thing.' Now Holly looked worried and she was rambling, which meant she was nervous. Oh what Gail would do to be able just kiss her and make her stop the word vomit.

'Yeah, yeah of course it's an end of the case celebration,' Gail said. The very last thing she wanted was for Holly to think she didn't want her there. Then without realising quite what she was doing, Gail grabbed Holly's hand and led her in the direction of the booths, shouting over her shoulder, 'You better be buying us drinks Diaz.'

They had only made it half way across the room when they ran into Oliver.

'Ah my two favourite people, Oliver said, a big grin on his face. 'Glad you could make it Holly and welcome back,' he drew Holly into a hug. 'You are a sight for sore eyes.'

At some weird level Gail felt irrationally jealous that Ollie could so easily show his affection for Holly. When Oliver swept Holly up into a hug, Gail had had to let go of her hand and she couldn't very well take hold of it again.

'What you didn't make it to Holly's welcome soiree,' Gail said, in a tone that made the gathering sound as tedious as watching paint dry.

'Had to work,' Oliver said, 'But I hear it was a good night.'

Gail rolled her eyes. She became aware of Chloe gesturing wildly to get their attention.

'Over here,' Chloe said, as though it wasn't obvious she was standing there guarding the booth.

Holly slid in first and Gail hesitated, debating whether to follow her or sit on the opposite side with Chloe, but then Chloe patted the space next to her.

'Come sit here, Oliver. I need to ask you something,' she said.

Okay, that really left Gail with no choice, because really it would look weird if the three of them sat opposite Holly. Gail was taking a step toward the booth when she was cut off by Jen Luck, the annoying officer effectively putting herself between Gail and Holly, with her back to Gail.

'Oh hey Dr Stewart,' Jen said, ignoring Chloe and Oliver. 'This seat taken?'

'Um,' Holly pushed her glasses back up her nose.

'Yep it is.' Gail pushed passed Luck and slid in alongside Holly, pressing up closer than perhaps was strictly necessary (but she needed to make a point to Luck, she reasoned). '15 only booth, Luck,' Gail said in that sugar sweet tone laid on so thick it was anything but sincere.

'Another time, Dr Stewart, ah Holly,' Luck said, stumbling a little over Holly's first name.

Chloe coughed loudly and Oliver did his best to look neutral but Gail could tell he was mildly irritated. Holly suddenly grabbed one of Gail's hands, which was resting on the table top, and entwined it with her own. Gail's eyes widened. She felt Chloe kick her under the table. Shit, clearly she needed to play along. Hopefully Luck hadn't noticed how startled she was when Holly took her hand.

'Um,' Holly said, struggling not to offend Luck. They had to work together after all. 'I'm very busy at the moment.'

Lame, Gail thought, but then again Holly was too nice to deliver a cutting slap down. Still, if Holly couldn't even come up with a reasonable excuse, any normal person would get the message she wasn't interested. Then again, Luck wasn't exactly normal.

'I'm afraid I've been monopolising all her free time,' Gail purred and turned to place a kiss on Holly's cheek. Holly blushed faintly but then slid arm around Gail's waist until her hand came to rest on Gail's hip. Gail was proud of herself for not jumping but she was sure the little shiver she gave did not go unnoticed by anyone at the table.

'Out of the way Luck.' It was Frankie, who looked deeply unimpressed to find Luck there. 'Unless you want to stick around and celebrate the awesomeness which is 15.'

At that Jen scowled and scuttled away. Holly let out a sigh of relief and to Gail's disappointment removed her arm and untwined their hands.

'Luck still harassing you,' Frankie narrowed her eyes.

'Harassing. What'd ya mean?' Gail sat up straight, practically spewing indignation. She wouldn't swear to it, but she thought she caught Ollie and Frankie smirking.

'Luck was here the night we met Holly for drinks,' Chloe started to explain.

'What, did Tracie invited her?' Gail interrupted.

'Geez no,' Frankie said. 'Luck was drunk and kept hitting on Holly.

'She was a little persistent,' Holly admitted. 'I finally told her I was seeing someone and that seemed to work.'

'Oh that old trick.' Gail's sarcasm wasn't lost on Holly, who winced slightly. In truth, Holly was seeing someone when she'd said that to Gail, only it wasn't a someone someone, it was only a two-date someone who Holly was desperately trying to convince herself might be something more.

'She dropped into the lab today and came on a bit strong.'

'Unprofessional,' Gail pronounced, crossing her arms.

'Indeed,' Holly agreed but she was smiling now. 'Luck said a little birdie had told her I was single so thanks for playing along, Gail.'

'Yes, it was very convincing,' Chloe nodded solemnly, but Gail couldn't shake the feeling she was teasing her.

'I spat in Luck's drink,' Gail said.

'What?' Chloe and Frankie said in unison.

Holly and Ollie looked amused, like indulgent parents too impressed by their kid's boldness to chide them for whatever misdemeanour had been committed. Gail then explained what had happened at fight night, omitting the detail that this was the very evening things had gone south for she and Holly, largely courtesy of Lisa (although Gail couldn't deny she herself had been an idiot).

'Wait, have you ever spat in any of our drinks?' Chloe was wide-eyed.

'Only Dov's coffee'

'Dov!' Chloe's eyes widened even further, but given Dov's well-known germ phobia, Gail sensed her reaction was more scandalised (in that way of being almost thrilled by a transgression) than aggrieved. 'You wouldn't.'

'Religiously—once a day. Dov's morning coffee.'

'Once a day,'Chloe repeated slowly, now looking quite shocked. Clearly she'd thought it a one off thing.

'Relax, Princess,' Gail laughed, deciding that much as it was fun to goad Chloe, it was time to out of her misery. 'I've never spat in any of your drinks and that includes Dov. You guys might be annoying but not nearly as annoying as Luck.'

Holly arched an eyebrow.

'Luck called her chicken police,' Chloe explained.

'Mature,' Holly observed.

A woman after my own heart, Gail thought, or so she imagined. It was only when Frankie quickly covered for her by saying, 'a bit dangerous to say that to a pathologist,' that Gail realised she'd said it out loud. Was Holly really after her heart, Gail wondered. She had it anyway, whether she was seeking it or not. She had a vision of herself holding the bloodied organ in her hands and solemnly passing it across to Holly.

'Chicken police,' Oliver repeated. 'Tell me that wasn't Luck's way of flirting.'

Gail nodded slowly to indicate yes.

'Kinda how I used to talk to girls when I was ten.'.

'Suave Ollie,'Gail teased.

'Peckling, I was ten.'

'Wait,' Holly said to Gail, 'Luck hit on you too.'

'Holly,' Frankie held out her hands in gesture of hopelessness. 'Luck's not discriminating. She hits on everyone, including Gail.'

'But strangely not you Anderson,' Gail said just as Holly started to speak. 'Sorry Holly, what were you saying?'

'Well, I was about to comment,' Holly paused. She had a mischievous glint in her eye. 'That Officer Luck at least has good taste but,' Holly trailed off.

'Oh say it, definitely say it,' Gail grinned while Frankie looked sour.

'Hardly a badge of honour to be the object of Jen "desperate and dateless" Luck's affections,' Frankie observed drily.

'This from a woman who has notches on the bedpost,' Gail said, unthinkingly falling into her usual banter with Frankie.

'Do you, Frankie?' Chloe asked, leaning forward in her seat.

'No!' Frankie was adamant.

'It was a figure of speech, Chloe,' Gail's smile was sweet, but entirely fake. 'I was alluding to the alleged number of Anderson's conquest.'

'Of which you are, ow!' Frankie yelped. 'Price did you just kick me?'

It was hard to tell because the bar was now so noisy but Gail could have sworn that Holly, who had gone silent during this exchange, sniggered. When Gail chanced a look at Holly, there was the trace of a smirk on her face.

'Did I?' Chloe asked innocently. 'I was swinging my legs and I must have—oh look here's Chris with our drinks.'

'About time,' Gail grumbled as Chris set the tray on the table. 'What's the use of dating the bar keep If it takes three times as long as everybody else to get a drink.'

'Is Kellie here,' Holly asked as Chris sat down next to her, 'how did her exam go?'

'Great.' Chris grinned. 'She said to thank you for the study tips. She starts her placement next week.'

'Yeah. I did some ride alongs with the paramedics when I was a resident. It's a tough gig.'

'Kellie loves it.' It was clear Chris was proud of his girlfriend, who was a few months off qualifying as a paramedic. In the meantime shifts at the Penny helped pay the rent.

'Man, that night you all had at the Penny must have been a real hoot,' Gail said. It was intended to sound light but came out more bitter than anything. She felt everyone at the table staring at her curiously. 'Well, If Holly got all of your sorry life histories I'm guessing it was a long night,' Gail explained.

'You know Chris,' Frankie drawled, 'he's an over sharer.'

Chris laughed uncertainly and tried hard not to look abashed.

'It was lovely to catch up on everyone's news,' Holly smiled.

Of course she'd say that, Gail thought, Holly was just too nice. But then Holly shifted so she was much closer to Gail, so close in fact that their shoulders bumped and Gail could feel Holly's thigh pressed against her own. Just for a moment Gail stopped breathing before quickly taking a swig of beer to mask the flush that was creeping steadily up her neck.

'I missed hearing your news,' Holly leaned in and said quietly, angling her body to face Gail.

'Not much to tell,' Gail tried to sound offhand. 'I guess you know about Steve.'

Holly nodded, her expression shifting to something resembling regret. 'I didn't hear until months later. I wanted to reach out but we weren't talking and you know what, I should have.'

Gail shook her head. 'I probably would have ignored your calls.'

Even though Holly quickly masked it, the look of hurt was impossible to miss.

'I wasn't letting anyone in,' Gail added hastily. Fact was she couldn't have coped with Holly's sympathy.

Gail had found it hard not to think she was somehow culpable for Steve's misdemeanours, that as a Peck she bore some responsibility. After she was hesitant to lie for Steve on the stand, her father had done nothing to assuage that feeling of guilt.

But if Holly had reached out—all warm and kind and empathetic—the façade of normal, of business as usual, that Gail had constructed to get her through those wretched days, and weeks and months, would surely have crumpled. In any case, it would have hurt too much. Easier to push Holly to the very back of her mind than acknowledge the perpetual ache of missing her.

'I was being an asshole,' Gail admitted when Holly didn't say anything but kept looking at her with such compassion that Gail found herself on the verge of confessing all.

'Gail Peck admits she's an asshole. Now there's a first,' Frankie piped up, suddenly disengaging from the rather animated discussion the rest of the table were having. In fact so animated it had allowed Gail that private exchange with Holly, truncated as it was.

'Isn't it your turn to get another round, Anderson,' Gail retorted.

'Isn't it always your turn, Scrooge Peck,' Frankie challenged, making Gail wonder if the detective had already put away a few drinks before joining them.

'Frankie,' Chloe admonished.

'What?' Frankie challenged.

Gail glared at her. It generally didn't have any effect on Frankie but this time she put up her hands in surrender. 'Ooh the death stare. Alright, alright I'm going,' she grumbled as she stood 'Geez Holly I don't know what you see in her,' Frankie added as she left, her back to the booth so she didn't see the commotion her comment caused.

Holly went red, Chloe shot a death stare of her own at Frankie's departing figure, Oliver coughed, Chris went wide-eyed in that way of people who think they might be about to get into trouble and Gail—well Gail screwed up her face as she tried to figure out whether her friends knew something she didn't. Had Holly told them she wouldn't be adverse to dating Gail again—oh surely not, Gail decided, because Holly, unlike Chris, was most definitely not an over sharer. Anyway, she hardly knew these idiots and why would she take a punt on Gail again after all that had been said and done.

After that Gail didn't get another chance for any sort of private conversation with Holly. When Gail went to the bar to get a round (she actually wasn't the skinflint Frankie made her out to be), she hoped Holly might follow her but Holly was deep in conversation with Oliver about a case she'd worked in San Francisco.

Returning to the booth, Gail found she didn't resent that the others seemed to know quite a bit about Holly's time in San Francisco or that Holly was caught up on what was happening in their lives or that they all acted as though they were old friends. It may have had something to do with the fact that as soon as Gail sat back down Holly had by degrees scooted closer so their thighs were again touching. Gail felt giddy, as if she were a teenager agonising over whether her crush liked her, except she was becoming more and more convinced—or at least hopeful—that the answer to that question was clear.

It was that deliciously liminal phase where you were certain and yet not certain that the other person was ready to cross that line, to move from flirtation to something more, and the anticipation of that, the longing for it, made you a little febrile but hyper attuned and—dare Gail admit it—euphoric. Like she had taken some sort of speedy drug.

It was sure to have something to do with hormones, which no doubt Holly could explain, but for now Gail was relishing the way that Holly's every gesture, her every look seemed laden with meaning. Even the slightest brush of her arm against Gail's caused a frisson that Gail found exhilarating—and the more they drank, the more Holly touched her, placing a hand on Gail's leg to get her attention or grabbing her hand to make a point.

As the night progressed, it seemed to Gail that the others increasingly receded until they were no more than white noise and there was just Holly. Like having tunnel vision. It was only when Frankie snapped her fingers in front of her face that Gail came to, realising she and Holly had been smiling at each other like idiots for who knows how long and about what she couldn't even recall.

'Peck, move your drunken ass. Oliver is driving us all home.'

Oliver was dangling his car keys. He had only drunk two beers over the course of the evening and Gail wondered who'd appointed him designated driver. It was a fleeting thought, gone almost as soon as it formed, because Holly had placed her hand on Gail's thigh again but this time not removed it, which was somewhat distracting. When Gail turned to face Holly, the pathologist was giving her that lopsided smile. All Gail wanted to do was lean in and kiss her, and she felt herself swaying slightly in Holly's direction but then Holly, sounding way more sober than Gail felt, said 'We better catch a ride with Oliver'.

Chris went to find Kellie, who had recently moved into the frat house when Dov moved out at last to live with Chloe. 'It was hard for him to part from his son,' Gail whispered to Holly, which made Holly's lip twitch in amusement.

Somehow Oliver managed to corral the four women out of the Penny into the parking lot and finally into his car.

'Shotgun,' Frankie shouted, jumping into the front passenger seat, which for some reason made Chloe break out in a fit of giggles. Then she suddenly snapped to and said 'I need a window seat. Just in case.'

That made Frankie practically double over with laughter.

'Maybe we should take an Uber,' Gail suggested, 'I don't want Price puking on us.'

'No, no, no,' Chloe said from her position wedged against the passenger door, each 'no' becoming more empathetic. 'I don't feel sick. Come sit here.' She patted the seat next to her.

Gail regarded her leerily. 'Why do you need a window seat then.'

That made Frankie start laughing again.

'Um fresh air. Yes fresh air so I don't fall asleep because I am sooo sleepy.' Chloe faked a yawn.

'Come on Peckling, the bus is leaving,' Oliver said.

'I'll sit next to Chloe,' Holly offered, getting into the car, which meant Gail had to follow.

As soon as Oliver turned on the ignition, Frankie began to fiddle with the radio until she found a song she liked, and then both she and Chloe started to sing along raucously, slipping in and out of tune the louder they got.

'Oh god,' Gail put her hands over her ears, 'kill me now. Holly, we should have taken a Uber.'

Now Holly was laughing, but not at her or so it appeared to Gail. Holly leaned over and gently removed Gail's hands, and then without letting them go, she leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Gail's lips. Like the wedding kiss it was quick, feather light and left Gail wanting more. Gail, however, was just sober enough to realise that kissing Holly in the back of Oliver's car, with Frankie and Chloe belting out pop songs, was not a good idea by any stretch of the imagination.

For the rest of the trip, neither she nor Holly said anything, but Holly kept hold of her hand and gave it a little squeeze, and when Gail glanced sideways, Holly appeared to be smiling. As luck would have it, Holly's place was the first stop. It was one of those modern townhouses—two stories high with big plate glass windows, and set back slightly from the street with a small front garden and steps leading up to the front entrance.

'Nice place,' Frankie gave a low whistle.

'That's what happens when you pay off your student loans, you get into more debt,' Holly said.

'It's way nicer than the hole in the wall Gail lives in,' Frankie angled herself to face the three in the back.

'Well, if you wanna talk comparisons here, Frankie,' Gail started, 'then your place isn't exactly the Taj Mahal—'

'Both your places are great,' Chloe interrupted, shutting up both Frankie and Gail. She looked at Frankie sternly as if to say 'not another word'. Man, thought Gail, Chloe was being bossy tonight. Strangely, Anderson was putting up with it.

Gail had to get out of the car to let Holly pass—Chloe certainly wasn't showing any signs of moving. In fact she remained so fixed it was like she was superglued to the seat.

'Walk her to the door,' Chloe hissed after Holly had said her goodbyes and was heading up the sidewalk.

'Yeah, this could be a very dangerous neighbourhood,' Frankie drawled, even though they all knew the area had the lowest crime rates in Toronto.

'Best see the good doctor safely home,' Oliver said genially, making it sound so reasonable that Gail immediately did as she was told.

'Hey,' Gail said as she jogged (which was a feat considering how much she'd had to drink) to catch up with Holly.

'What are you doing here?' Holly looked if anything amused.

'Oh you know, protect and serve.'

'How reassuring to have a police escort, but I did manage to make it up the sidewalk without misadventure.' Holly smirked but then she stepped right up to Gail and, placing a hand on her cheek, kissed her. It wasn't fleeting like the kiss in the car, no this continued far longer until Gail had a hand on Holly's lower back and it felt like there was only one way this night could end.

Quite suddenly Oliver's car horn sounded loudly. For some reason Gail jumped away from Holly almost guiltily.

'Hey Peck, are you getting lucky or what,' Frankie leaned out of the car window and yelled, 'cause I want to get home to my bed.'

Oliver and Chloe could be heard shushing her.

'Um,' Holly twisted her hands.

The light over the front entrance only just reached where they stood at the bottom of the steps, leaving half of Holly's face in darkness and Gail couldn't get a read on her expression. Something had definitely shifted in Holly's demeanour and, even though they were still standing quite close, Gail sensed a distance between them. Perhaps Holly was embarrassed by Frankie. She was not one to flaunt her private life and whatever was happening between them was currently playing out in a very public way.

It was probably sensible they stopped here, Gail reasoned. She didn't want this to be a drunken hook up and after Frankie's boorish interruption it was feeling a lot like that. Gail needed to tell Holly how she really felt about her, or at least give some indication, because there was no point jumping into something if it was only a bit of fun for Holly. That made Gail pause because those words held such bitter associations. Holly had said she could be serious with the right person but was that Gail?

'I'll call you,' Gail finally said, realising Holly was peering at her as if waiting for her to say something.

Holly nodded distractedly and fished her keys out of her pocket to open the front door, giving Gail an awkward little wave before disappearing inside.

Well fuck, Gail thought to herself, what did that mean?

'Ehnt,' Frankie called out, imitating the sound of a game show buzzer that goes off when a contestant gives the wrong answer. Yep, Gail was an epic fail.

'Frankie,' Chloe reprimanded.

'What? We practically gift wrapped Holly for her and Peck still couldn't get it together.'

Oh fuck, was that what tonight was all about? Now Gail felt embarrassed. Come to think of it her friends had been pushing she and Holly at each other all night. It made everything Gail had felt and in turn imagined Holly must be feeling seem like artifice. Just a stupid set up planned by her idiotic friends. Were they now having a good laugh at her ineptitude? Even Ollie who Gail had always believed to be in her corner.

Then there came a memory from when she had just met Holly, way before they were dating, when Holly had expressed her admiration at Gail's ability to stay friends with her exes. Whereas, Holly confessed, she had a tendency to have drunken sex with her exes and then never speak to them again.

Maybe all Holly wanted was a fuck for old times sake, a drunken tumble that they'd dismiss in the morning as a not to be repeated mistake, because as soon as Gail pulled back and said she'd call, Holly couldn't get into her house fast enough. Well, fuck. Gail wondered if there was another undercover assignment she could volunteer for.


	5. Chapter 5

_It's my birthday so I giving you an update. Hope you like it. I didn't get a huge response to the last chapter so maybe readers don't like the direction I'm taking this in but I'm enjoying writing it anyway. Thanks though to those who reviewed and favourited and followed—it does inspire me! _

_I don't like to single out particular reviewers because I appreciate everyone's comments (and always try to respond to non-guest reviewers) but I just wanted to thank Debby who reviews as a guest (so I can't reply to her) but who consistently reviews with constructive and positive comments and great insight. Hope other readers don't feel left out because as I said I really value all your feedback._

Gail didn't see Holly for another five days. After the evening at the Penny, she was drawn into Traci's op and spent three long nights in an airless surveillance van with Dov.

'How's Holly?' Traci asked on the first night right before they left the station.

'You should know,' Gail retorted, 'she's your friend.'

Traci raised an eyebrow but said nothing more.

The three nights did give Gail time to reflect on what had transpired between she and Holly—possibly too much time because no matter how she looked at, Gail could find nothing to give her hope. Holly was probably thankful she and Gail hadn't drunkenly fall into bed and Gail was grateful she was at least spared Holly's look of regret the morning after.

0n the third night, Traci ordered a pre-dawn raid and seized an astonishing number of semi-automatics and a gang who it seemed had not even an inkling they were under surveillance.

'This calls for a celebratory breakfast,' Gail announced when she and Dov were back at 15, stretching to right the kinks in her body caused by sitting in the van for hours on end.

'I'm going home to sleep,' Dov said.

'When did you get so boring.' Gail made a face. 'Oh wait, don't answer that. You were born this way.'

'Why don't you see if the good doctor is free,' Dov suggested.

'Who?' Gail asked even though she knew full well he was referring to Holly.

'I'm sure Holly would be happy to join you.'

'Chloe put you up to this?' Gail's expression hardened. She was surprised it had taken Dov this long to mention Holly

Dov coloured.

'Tell Chloe she is not my self-appointed fairy god mother.'

'Gail, you've got to admit you've been grumpy ever since that night out at the Penny. Way more than normal.'

'Who wouldn't be cooped up in a van with you.'

'Chloe had lunch with Holly yesterday—.'

'Chloe had what,' Gail snarled, the ferocity of her response taking Dov by surprise. So much so that he took a step backwards. 'You know what, I don't care,' Gail continued, her voice soft now and saccharine. 'The Princess can luncheon with whomever she likes.' Gail flapped her hand as if it were of no concern to her.

'Chloe said that when Holly first got to San Francisco, she had a short-lived relationship,' Dov continued valiantly, clearly under instruction from Chloe to see this through.

'I'm aware,' Gail said icily, 'and do I look like someone who gives a fuck.'

'Um,' Dov faltered at that. 'Well, the thing is there were no more relationships after that. Zero. Zilch. Nada, Nil,' Dov made his thumb and forefinger into the shape of a zero. 'What does that say to you?'

'I dunno. Holly took a vow of celibacy.'

'It was a rebound!' Dov exclaimed, like he'd just completed a slam dunk. 'Holly is still hung up on you.'

'She say that to Price?'

'Um, not in so many words,' Dov hedged.

'You know what, I think my celibacy theory carries more weight. Now go home and tell Price you tried but the game is up. I've totally figured out what's she's up to and she should keep her nose out of my business.'

Gail didn't admit it, but Dov's words had given her pause and for the first time in days she felt a flutter of hope. Enough that after she had showered and changed, Gail decided to head to the morgue. Holly was an early riser and was often at work before 8 am. Maybe breakfast wasn't a bad idea after all.

'Dr Stewart has been called to Bobcaygeon. A triple homicide. Probably won't be back for a couple of day,' a pimply young man who looked about ten and claimed to be one of Holly's interns informed Gail. 'Can someone else help?'

'Not important,' Gail shrugged.

'You're not from IT are you? Dr Stewart is still having trouble logging onto the system.'

'Nah,' Gail was already walking away. A triple homicide in Bobcaygeon—now that was a turn up for the books. The place only had a population of about three thousand and was pretty much a tourist town, popular with recreational fishers. Gail pulled out her phone and googled the story. Sure enough there it was. The victims weren't residents but blow ins and a team from Ontario's Forensic Department had been sent to help the local authorities.

She debated texting Holly but to say what? Seeing me again was so bad, you went to Bobcaygeon? Hope the locals are treating you well? Fact was, if Holly had really wanted Gail to call, wouldn't she have sent a message to say she was out of town? Just like that the little flutter of hope died.

Thirty-six hours later Gail was called back into work just p and to make matters worse partnered with Frankie again. The universe really did hate her. Technically Gail wasn't rostered until the following morning but was on call that evening. It was another hot night and she'd been sitting on her verandah which was barely large enough for two chairs and a crate, dressed in a singlet and shorts and wishing she could have a beer, when her phone buzzed.

'We've got another homicide,' Frankie said by way of greeting.

'Isn't it usually up to the forensics to determine that,' Gail pointed out acerbically.

'Well, unless this woman strangled herself, I'd say homicide is a safe bet.'

Gail resisted the urge to roll her eyes. At least Holly was in Bobcaygeon so there was no chance of running into her at the scene.

'The victim is a Shannon Elias. 33. Worked in finance,' Frankie said, sounding suddenly loud, like maybe this was the second or third time she'd said the same thing. Gail wondered if she'd been day dreaming or perhaps she had narcolepsy. Gee, that would be just peachy.

'No need to shout Anderson,' Gail complained.

'Just get down to the station,' Frankie gave a long-suffering sigh.

It didn't take long for Gail to make her way to 15 even though she was walking. The apartment was literally around the corner from the precinct, a fact that Gail felt quite smug about. It meant she could both sleep-in and be on time for her shifts. Sure the place was small and a little rundown and Elaine was aghast at her choice of neighbourhood but Gail had scrimped and saved to put a deposit down and liked the feeling of having carved out some space of her own. A space that both belonged to her and in which she belonged.

'Ready to roll, Peck,' Frankie asked when Gail stuck her head in the detective pen.

Gail grimaced. Who even said things like that? 'Frankie, you know we're not in some B grade cop show,' she said, trailing after the detective. Gail hadn't got very far when she saw Elaine barrelling down the corridor. Too late to find anywhere to hide.

'See you in the car,' Frankie said out of the corner of her mouth before turning back around to give Elaine a big smile. 'Superintendent.'

'Detective Anderson,' Elaine's smile was equally fake. 'I won't detain my daughter for long.'

Frankie nodded and scurried off. The rat, Gail thought. She could have at least pretended it was an urgent call out.

'Mother,' Gail said stiffly, wondering what the Superintendent was doing in the building at this time of night. She did work long hours but it was now nearly 8 pm.

'You disappeared from the party,' Elaine accused but weirdly didn't sound the least bit angry. Strange too that it had taken her mother an entire week to accost her about this.

'I didn't feel well,' Gail said. 'Might have been something I ate.' It wasn't a complete lie. Seeing Holly had definitely left her feeling out of sorts.

'And you didn't think to call?'

'I was pulled onto a surveillance op.'

'Traci's case. Yes I'm aware but I don't believe she had you working around the clock. So how is Doctor Stewart?'

'In Bobcaygeon last I heard.'

'Holly returned yesterday afternoon,' Elaine said with an irritable shake of her head.

'I'm not her keeper,' Gail shrugged and then said, as if being helpful, 'I know, go ask Chloe or better still the Commissioner. They're sure to have the latest Do tor Stewart , I best not keep Detective Anderson waiting any longer.'

With that Gail set off in the direction Frankie had taken. With every step she took, Gail was convinced she would hear Elaine demand she come back to speak to her at once but her mother remained silent. When she reached the end of the corridor, Gail chanced a look but Elaine was gone.

Shannon Elias's apartment was in a swanky part of the city. It was in one of those new buildings, all glass and steel and concrete with a doorman who drew himself up imperiously before scrutinising Frankie and Gail's badges with great care.

'You said Shannon was in finance,' Gail said as they got into the lift, 'she must have been making good money.'

'Yep,' Frankie nodded and pushed the button for the twelfth floor. 'I bet the view is spectacular.'

'Who's the forensic doc?' Gail asked, realising she'd asked exactly this when they had pulled up to the last homicide.

'Hoping to see good doctor Holly,' Frankie said, 'sorry to disappoint but we've got Rodney.'

Maybe the universe wasn't out to get her, Gail decided. Although how she could spend the rest of her career avoiding Holly was a conundrum. Perhaps she should seriously consider moving to Vancouver. Mike, a sergeant from Vancouver PD who she'd worked with undercover, had emailed to say there was an opening for a detective and was Gail tempted, and if so the job was pretty much hers for the taking.

Quite by chance Mike's sister had an apartment Gail could rent, the current tenants having given notice. I never got a chance to introduce you to Beth, he had written, I think you two would hit it off. Gail didn't need to read between the lines because Mike had told her enough about the recently single Beth for Gail to know she was separated long enough that she was over her ex. She was a zoo keeper who rode a badass motorbike and, from the photo Mike showed Gail, gorgeous to boot with long black curls and quite luscious lips, pouty and very kissable. Although, that immediately made Gail think of Holly and the way her lips quirked into a lop-sided smile.

The other problem was Juliette. After their terse exchange at Steve's trial, Gail had had no reason to speak to her again before the detective left Toronto. She had only seen Juliette once in Vancouver and the detective was decidedly chilly. Maybe she thought Gail held a grudge or perhaps she didn't want to hash over the breakup with Nick. On the bright side, if Gail moved to Vancouver they could bond over Nick's general hopelessness. Gail's mother would probably never speak to her again but that probably belonged in the plus column.

'We're still processing the scene,' Rodney apologised when Gail and Frankie appeared at the door to the apartment. 'But if you suit up, I can walk you through and tell you what we know so far.'

Shannon's body was lying half on, half off the sofa. She looked like a rag doll but for way her eyes bulged hideously and the purple marks upon her neck where she'd been clearly strangled.

'Must have put up a fight,' Frankie indicated the living room. The glass coffee table was shattered vase and a lamp knocked over. There was a damp patch on the carpet from an upturned beer bottle, and several cushions lay haphazardly on the floor.

'With any luck she scratched her assailant,' Rodney said. 'It looks as though there is skin under her nails.'

Frankie nodded.

'Rigor mortis has almost passed and the lividity is fixed so at a rough guess she's been dead about 48 hours. We haven't moved the body, but you can you see the lividly? It's consistent with her being strangled on or near the sofa. My guess is she was standing when she was strangled and then fell back on to the sofa.'

'They must have made a racket,' Gail indicated the scene, 'have uniforms checked if the neighbours heard anything.'

Frankie shook her head. 'Only one neighbour. A Doctor Gordon.'

Gail raised an eyebrow. Two apartments per floor. Like Shannon's, the neighbouring one must cover a large number of square metres. It made her place look like a shoebox.

'Maybe we should go see if the doctor is home,' Frankie continued, 'let you finish up here, Rodney.'

Rodney nodded.

'Doctor Gordon,' Gail said, realising the name sounded familiar, 'male or female?'

Frankie shrugged. 'The doorman just said doctor. Anyway, in a place like this the walls are so thick, they probably didn't hear a thing.'

Frankie started knocking on the neighbour's door. It took a moment before they heard footsteps—a clack clack of heels against what Gail imagined was marble. Then the door was flung open and there stood Lisa, a champagne flute in one hand and a flushed look that indicated this wasn't her first glass.

Okay, so maybe the universe did hate her, Gail decided.

'You,' Lisa said in a way that even made Frankie blink, in fact it was so venomous the word was practically spat out. Gail still hadn't quite figured out what she'd done to deserve Lisa's opprobrium but there was no denying the boob doctor hated her.

'You know each other,' Frankie looked between the two women knowingly.

Oh shit. It dawned on Gail that Frankie assumed she and Lisa had slept together. She'd probably cast Lisa as the spurned lover or something.

'I have met Officer Peck,' Lisa's mouth turned downwards with distaste, 'and I can't say it was a pleasure.'

'It's detective,' Frankie said

'What?' Lisa looked at Frankie irritably.

'It's Detective Peck,' Frankie tried again, 'and Detective Anderson.' She stuck out her hand but Lisa ignored it.

'And this is Doctor Lisa Gordon,' Gail finally spoke.

Frankie raised her eyebrows just a fraction, but enough so Gail could tell she'd caught on and realised exactly who Lisa was. Blame that on tequila, Gail thought, still not sure why late one night at the Penny she'd opened up to Frankie about the whole sorry Holly saga.

'Who is it Lis?' A voice came down the marble passageway, the sound of which made Gail's heart constrict. Possibly even stop beating. Then Holly was there before them, a slight frown on her face, not of annoyance but rather one of those puzzled frowns people have when they see someone out of context.

Lisa waved in Gail and Frankie's direction. 'The thin blue line,' she said sarcastically, 'what is it you want officers?'

'Detectives,' Holly corrected her but Lisa seemingly didn't hear or at least took no notice.

Holly looked tired. Gail hoped the local police in Bobcaygeon hadn't been difficult. She knew from experience that out in the provinces some of the older male officers could still be real assholes when it came to working with women.

'We're investigating a homicide in the building,' Frankie supplied, 'mind if we come in for a moment, if that's not inconvenient?'

'Well, we just sat down to dinner,' Lisa said, making it very plain that she did indeed feel inconvenienced.

'A homicide,' Holly said, 'is forensics on the scene?'

'Rodney's here,' Frankie said.

'I should probably go assist him,' Holly turned to look at Lisa apologetically.

'Rodney has it under control,' Gail said, 'and by the looks of it you aren't on duty.'

'But,' Holly started.

'Funnily enough forensics managed quite well without you for the past four years,' Gail said, her voice soft and seemingly neutral, but the words cutting nonetheless.

Frankie flicked her eyes sideways at Gail. Lisa smirked. And Holly? Holly actually looked hurt. Gail felt like a louse but it was too late to take the words back.

Maybe it was the prospect of seeing Gail and Holly take swipes at one another, but for whatever reason Lisa suddenly relented. 'You had better come in,' she said, with a dramatic sigh and abruptly turned on her heel.

They followed her down the passageway, which opened out to an enormous living area with floor to ceiling windows overlooking downtown Toronto, it's myriad lights twinkling in a show you'd probably never tire of. Frankie was right—the view was spectacular. It occurred to Gail then that the blinds where drawn in Shannon's apartment—would the murderer have taken the time to shut them or did it mean Shannon was killed at night, but why block such a vista? Lisa certainly hadn't pulled the blinds.

Sitting at a dinning table were two women, who were looking curiously in their direction. Both were striking—one with dark hair and the other honey blonde—and both wore near identical outfits, black halter neck tops, fitted jeans and ankle boots with a small heel. The table was set for four with fine stemmed wine glasses and candles, whose guttering flame lent an intimacy to the dimly lit room.

It set just the right atmosphere for a couples' dinner party, Gail thought, trying her hardest not to be bitter. Holly was a free agent after all and Gail didn't have a claim on her, or more to the point was the last person Holly would want making any such presumption. Gail had fucked up a lot of things in her life but her relationship (had it even achieved that status) with Holly was probably the worse.

'What's going on?' the darker haired of the two asked.

'A murder in the building,' Lisa said conspiratorially, but also with a morbid kind of relish.

'We have a couple of questions—for the occupants,' Frankie said.

'I moved in two days ago,' the dark-haired woman said, 'so I guess that makes me an occupant.' She smiled sappily at Lisa, who to Gail's surprise had an almost equally goofy expression. Gail had not seen that coming.

'You are?' Frankie asked.

'Angie—' Lisa's girlfriend started but the woman with the honey blonde hair spoke over her.

'I wouldn't give these officers any information, including your name, until they explain exactly why they are here.' As she spoke, she got up and out of her chair, crossing her arms defensively.

'They're detectives,' Holly interjected but no one seemed to be listening to her.

'You a lawyer?' Frankie smirked.

'Yes and I know my rights.'

'Good for you,' Frankie kept smirking, which didn't go down well with honey-blonde at all. Her eyes popped a little and she elongated her neck as if readying to do battle with Frankie.

'Sidney,' Holly put her hand on the women's forearm, 'I know Detective Anderson and Detective Peck. This is routine. They are just doing their job.'

So if Angie was Lisa's girlfriend who was Sidney, Gail wondered, unable to stop looking at Holly's hand which remained on Sidney's forearm. Either she was one of Lisa's set-ups for Holly or Holly had invited her. Whichever, Gail didn't like it. Maybe she should reconsider a move to Vancouver. Hell, at this rate even Bobcaygeon was looking attractive.

'A murder in the building—you're casting the net wide,' said Sidney, mollified somewhat by Holly's restraining hand, but not willing to completely cede ground.

'In the neighbouring apartment to be precise,' Gail said, herself assuaged by the fact that Holly had now removed her hand from Sidney's arm.

That created a stir. It stopped Sidney, who was about to say something more, in her tracks, her mouth gapping like a fish out of water. Lisa's composure was shaken for once and she did a brief but shocked double-take. 'You said a homicide in the building, I didn't think you meant my neighbour,' Lisa said with none of her usual swagger. If anything there was a slight tremor in her voice.

Angie, for her part, was wide-eyed. 'You mean Shannon?' she asked.

'At this stage we can't confirm the identity of the victim,' Frankie said.

'Oh come on,' Sidney protested, 'you can't expect us to answer questions if we aren't informed whether the victim is someone we might know.'

'Sidney, this is normal,' Holly explained calmly. 'I'm guessing you haven't notified the victim's next of kin yet.' She looked at Gail and Frankie.

Gail nodded.

'Still trying to get hold of them,' Frankie said.

'So you know Shannon?' Gail asked, deciding to ignore Sidney's objections.

'Only as a neighbour,' Lisa said, a little too quickly. 'You know we'd say hi in the lift. That sort of thing.'

'Don't look at me,' Sidney said, even though no one was, 'I don't live here.' She crossed her arms and sat bak in her chair.

'Sidney, you met Shannon the day before yesterday when you helped me move in ,' Angie said, 'remember Shannon held the lift for us, and you said she was hot.'

Gail found herself warming to Angie. She had a ditziness that, dare Gail say it, reminded her of Chloe, and which, as with Chloe, belied the keen intelligence that lay beneath. What was the woman doing with Lisa?

Sidney looked annoyed. 'Vaguely,' she said.

'What time was that?' Frankie asked.

'Um, about 4 pm, wasn't it Lis?' Angie said.

Lisa nodded in a preoccupied way.

'So was that the last time any of you saw her?

The three women nodded.

'And you haven't seen anyone coming or going from Shannon's apartment since then?'

'No,' Angie shook her head, and the other two followed suit.

'Have you heard any noise coming from Shannon's apartment in the last 48 hours?' Gail asked.

'We didn't even hear you guys out there,' Lisa scoffed.

'The sound proofing that good,' Frankie said as she reached for her card, 'well, if you think of anything else.'

'Um, this might be important,' Lisa said, strangely hesitant, 'but a little while back Shannon mentioned she'd split from her boyfriend. She referred to him as the,' Lisa did air quotes, 'ex asshole boyfriend. It could have been the break up talking but I got the impression he was controlling and maybe manipulative.'

'She said all that in the lift?' Gail asked.

It's 12 stories up,' Lisa was defensive.

'Do remember when this was?' Frankie asked.

'A month, six weeks ago.'

'She didn't happen to mention his name?'

'No, but Chet the concierge keeps a list of regular visitors.'

'A bit intrusive,' Gail couldn't help saying. So Chet was a concierge—was doorman too vulgar for an upscale place like this?

'It's for our protection,' Lisa said.

'Uh huh.' Like that had made a difference. Shannon had still been murdered in her own apartment.

As if the same thought occurred to her, Angie asked, 'Should we be concerned about our safety.'

'I'd say the perpetrator is long gone,' Gail reassured her. 'But if you have any concerns, call Detective Anderson or myself.' Now, she handed over her card. Normally, she might have advised calling the station but Gail wanted to prove to Holly she didn't hold a grudge and certainly wasn't going to treat Holly's friends any differently just because Holly wasn't interested in her.

Holly followed them out. As they went back down the marble passageway, they could hear Sidney say, 'I hate it when the police throw their weight around like they own the place'. Gail was sure Sidney had pitched her voice at such a volume so they would hear. Next came Lisa's voice, equally loud, 'you know the blonde one is Holly's ex.' 'Oh she's the ex—gorgeous but Holly must have been slumming it,' Sidney said before Angie began shushing them.

Holly made a face. 'I'm sorry about,' she paused, looking for the right words. 'That back there. Um, Sidney is actually a corporate lawyer and I don't think she's across the law when it comes to police procedure,' she finally said, making no attempt to correct Sidney's assertion that she was slumming it with Gail.

'No need to apologise for your date,' Gail didn't look at Holly.

'She's not,' Holly started but Gail spoke over her.

'Girlfriend, whatever. Come on Anderson, we better not keep Rodney waiting.' Gail was already out in the corridor, her back to Holly so she missed the look Frankie exchanged with the doctor. If Holly was apologising for Sidney, Frankie was doing the same for Gail. Her expression was rueful and she held out her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

'You know what I probably should come and see if Rodney needs a hand,' Holly said.

'Wouldn't you say that's a conflict of interest, given your best friend is the victim's neighbour,' Gail didn't turn around.

'Gail's right,' Frankie agreed mildly

'You realise I'm Rodney's supervisor and he'll report to me on the case,' Holly said. She didn't sound angry. If anything she seemed slightly amused.

Gail could picture Holly standing there, her head tilted and a lopsided smile on her face. She didn't want to turn around, she really really didn't but she couldn't help it (weak Peck, weak she berated herself) and when she did, sure enough, Holly looked exactly as she imagined.

Gail wanted to melt, wanted to confess all right then and there, but she couldn't because Holly didn't feel the same way about her and anyway it was inappropriate given they were once again colleagues. Besides nothing worse then having someone swamp you with their feelings when you had most definitely moved on. So instead Gail said, 'Well, Doctor Stewart, I guess it's up to you to decide where your personal and professional boundaries end, and whether you should recuse yourself from this case.' She smiled at Holly then, a big fake smile and didn't Holly know it. She shook her head a little as though mystified.

'In any case we don't want to spoil your evening,' Gail said. It was the saccharine voice and heralded her final salvo. No turning back now. 'I'm sure Sidney's missing you already.' With that, she marched off down the corridor, past the uniform standing outside Shannon's front door and into the apartment.

'I found these,' Rodney held up an evidence bag with three plain white shirt buttons, one with a ripped bit of material still attached. 'Scattered on the carpet under the sofa. Her top doesn't have buttons so I'm guessing they could belong to the perpetrator.'

'She really did fight back,' Gail said. 'Maybe the perp didn't notice the buttons were missing because they left in a hurry.' Focusing on work, though it was grisly, was almost soothing, allowing her to shut out what had just transpired in the next door apartment.

'Or didn't notice they were pulled off in the struggle.'

'Indicates it maybe wasn't premeditated,' Gail said. 'Like this is someone who just flipped.'

Rodney nodded. 'From the cuts on her arms, my guess is she was pushed into the glass table with enough force it shattered. Then maybe she scrambled up, the perpetrator grabbed her and strangled her, and she fell back against the sofa.'

'Force like that, it's likely to be someone who she had history with,' Gail said.

'True,' Rodney agreed, 'then again I've seen cases were strangers have been far more violent. Guys who are off their faces or full of rage or hate women.'

'Or all three,' Gail said.

Rodney nodded sadly. Fact was he'd never be that kind of guy and Gail knew he had trouble understanding what drove men to treat women like this.

'Don't rule out that the perpetrator could have been female,' Frankie said as she came into the room. Gail wondered what had kept her so long in the corridor. 'Always keep an open mind. Right Rodney.'

Rodney nodded vigorously, not so much because he agreed but so as not to put Frankie offside. He used to feel nervous around Gail but now it was Frankie who made him jumpy. Gail hadn't actually taken any satisfaction from the fact that her presence exponentially increased Rodney's anxiety levels and so had worked to win him around. Frankie didn't seem to care either way. As someone who shrugged off insults and didn't care what anyone thought of her, she had trouble understanding why other people weren't the same.

'By the way your boss is having dinner in the apartment next door,' Frankie said smugly.

'My b-b-boss,' Rodney stuttered, 'you mean Doctor Stewart.'

'Yep, she wanted to come help but Detective Peck believed that constituted a conflict of interest.'

'Oh,' Rodney looked across at Gail with an uncertain expression. 'It's always beneficial to have Doctor Stewart's expertise,' he began tentatively, 'but if you're not comfortable—'

'It's not that,' Gail snapped, making Rodney visibly shrink back. Fuck, she'd probably undone all the hard work that had gone into making him more comfortable around her. Rodney, of course, knew about Holly and Gail's previous thing. He'd been caught right in the middle of it when Gail had tried to cajole him into rehydrating the thumb. 'It's purely about probity,' she added in a softer tone.

'Uh huh, good old probity,' Frankie didn't sound convinced. 'So, will you do the autopsy in the morning, Rodney?'

'First thing,' Rodney was quick to assure, again anxious to avoid incurring Frankie's displeasure.

'I'll send Detective Peck,' Frankie grinned in away that Gail thought was only just short of evil.

…

'You really are an asshole,' Frankie said once they were back in the lift.

'Excuse me,' Gail screwed up her face. 'Tell someone who cares.'

'All Holly wanted was an excuse to get out of there and you wouldn't let her,' Frankie kept on as of Gail hadn't said anything. 'Banned her in fact.'

I did not ban her,' Gail protested. 'Holly seemed quite happy to get back to Sidney.'

Frankie laughed out loud. 'You don't seriously think Holly's interested in "Ms I know my rights"? Geez Peck, sometimes I really do wonder how you made detective. Anyway, if it hadn't been for Holly, "Ms I know my rights" would have stopped Lisa and Angie saying anything.'

'Yeah, well they all seemed pretty cosy up there.' Without really realising what she was doing, Gail started repeatedly jabbing the ground floor button.

'Won't make it go any faster,' Frankie observed. 'Have you forgotten that less than a week ago you and Holly were making out in the back of Oliver's car.'

Oh, so Frankie had noticed that.

'We were not,' Gail started to protest.

'Yeah, you were. You two couldn't keep your hands off each other all night.'

'Well, clearly it meant nothing to Holly.' To Gail's relief they had arrived at the ground floor and the lift doors slid open with a ding to reveal Chet the concierge waiting for them.

He was a portly man, a fact accentuated by the way his beige uniform clung tightly to his rotund belly, and he was pompous. His accent sounded more British than Canadian and Gail couldn't tell if it was affected or if he actually hailed from England.

'Miles Baxter,' Chet said. He hadn't even needed to consult his list. 'Never liked the man. He was always making demands on Ms Elias, and he was sulky if she didn't comply. And she was way out of his league—I am sure you understand my meaning. He worked as an insurance assessor,' Chet's mouth formed into a distasteful moue. 'When Ms Elias told me they'd finally split, I said good riddance.'

'You know the building occupants well then?' Gail asked.

'Well, I get to observe their comings and goings. Exchange pleasantries. Some of them even share confidences with me.'

Gail wondered what Chet would say about Lisa. 'So did Shannon confide in you?'

'Not initially but after Baxter was off the scene she told me to take him off the list.'

'So the occupants don't mind you keep this list?' Frankie inquired.

'Quite the opposite. It makes them feel secure knowing I'm keeping a watchful eye.'

'I'm sure,' Gail said in such a way that only Frankie picked up her sarcasm. 'So did your watchful eye spy Miles Baxter coming or going in the last forty-eight hours.'

'Oh yes. He was here two evenings ago, probably around six. '

'And you let him in, even though Shannon said he was off the list?'

'I phoned Ms Elias once he was in the lift to warn her and she said not to worry, he had just come by to collect some of his belongings.'

'So did you see Baxter leave?'

'Only out of the corner of my eye. I was putting Mrs Gilchrist in a taxi. Poor woman suffers terribly from arthritis—indeed is quite incapacitated by it—and needs a great deal of assistance.'

'So you didn't happen to notice how Baxter seemed?'

Chet shook his head, obviously annoyed with himself, and then he brightened. 'But I do have CCTV footage of the lobby.'

…..

'And bingo,' Frankie exclaimed as they watched Baxter exit the lift.

'Bingo?' Gail repeated in wonderment. Had Frankie been spending her spare time hanging out at a retirement home.

'Here's our guy,' Frankie pointed at the video monitor, thinking Gail hadn't understood.

Once he stepped into the lobby, Baxter looked furtively to the left and then the right before hurrying past Chet who was indeed rendering assistance to an elderly lady. Baxter was disheveled, and even though the footage was grainy, it appeared as though his shirt was missing several buttons.

Frankie looked at her watch. It was nearly 11 pm. 'Not too late to pay Baxter a surprise visit.'

'It's always the exes,' Gail observed gloomily as she shrugged on her jacket.

'Ha, if that were true we'd be out of a job.' Frankie said. 'But yeah, I don't need to tell you that women are more likely to be killed by someone they know. I haven't seen any statistics that says that someone is usually the ex but I guess that makes sense.'

Miles Baxter's apartment was not nearly as well-appointed as Shannon's. For starters there was no doorman (correction, Gail thought, 'concierge'). It was actually more like the kind of place she or Frankie might live. Nice enough but modest, probably with a mix of home owners and renters on middle incomes, or maybe even students balancing part-time work with study.

'Miles is out of town,' a cheerful young guy, who had emerged from the stairwell carrying a bike over his shoulder, told them. 'I just finished work,' he said indicating the bike. 'I'm a waiter. Well, actually I'm studying anthropology but waiting tables pays the rent.'

'Know when Miles will be back,' Frankie asked.

'Has he done something wrong?' the young man's bright countenance was replaced by a worried frown.

'He might be able to help us with our inquiry, Mr—?'

'Oh um Adam. Adam Teo.' He extended the arm that wasn't holding the bike to shake Frankie's hand. 'Miles left to visit his sick grandmother. It was sudden. He wasn't sure how long he'd be gone. I only know because I ran into him as he was on his way out yesterday morning.'

'About what time was that?' Frankie asked.

'I'd gone to get milk. Must have been around 9 am.'

'Any idea where his grandmother lives?'

'I think Miles said Ottawa.'

'You didn't happen to notice whether Miles' face was scratched?' Gail asked.

'Oh yeah,'Adam gave a small laugh, 'Miles said his girlfriend's crazy cat attacked him for no reason. Oh shit, it wasn't the cat was it?

…..

'You'll be getting a reputation,' Holly said with that damned lopsided smile.

'What' Gail replied ungraciously, trying desperately not to give into that smile. She was feeling grumpy anyway, not having left work until close to 1 am. Then she'd had trouble sleeping, her brain refusing to shut off, keyed up by the investigation which invariably led to thoughts of Holly.

When Gail finally drifted off it wasn't for long because she was woken by a particularly vivid sex dream. Holly was fucking her from behind (something Gail had found she liked Holly doing), her centre pushing against Gail's ass with each thrust. Gail quickly became worked up, in fact was so close, was indeed on the brink of coming when she woke, wet and with an ache between her thighs that her own fingers did little to assuage.

And now here was Holly standing in front of her, smiling that damned smile, and Gail had to fight not to blush. The sex in the dream had been raw and wanton and the memory of it now made Gail awkward. She should probably berate her subconscious for using Holly in this way, especially as the pull she felt toward Holly was composed of so much more than simply the psychical. Instead, Gail covered her discomfort by coughing and saying, 'Reputation for what?'. Hopefully not for being a sex-crazed lunatic.

'For solving crimes in under twenty-four hours. I hear you have a suspect,' Holly said, 'and Rodney took skin samples from under the victim's fingernails so you'll have a DNA profile in a few days.'

'I see you decided not to recuse yourself from this case,' Gail tried for icy but instead sounded petulant.

Holly laughed. 'You don't seriously think I have a conflict of interest.' When Gail didn't say anything, she sighed. 'But I'm not working directly on the case. I only know because I'm Rodney's supervisor.'

Gail nodded. 'Yeah, well I better go find Rodney.'

'Autopsy suite two,' Holly said, 'but Gail, wait.' She suddenly grabbed Gail's wrist, her fingers encircling it, and pulled her towards a door marked autopsy suite one.

Gail felt her heart beat quicken. It was so like that time Holly had turned up at 15, when they were still trying to convince themselves they were friends and no more, and dragged her into an interrogation room. The thought that Holly might kiss her made Gail feel light-headed, but she hadn't exactly given Holly any cause to do that. Maybe her lust-addled brain was giving off pheromones and Holly couldn't help but react this way.

Except when Holly pushed open the door to the autopsy suite, there stood a group of what looked to be interns, including the pimply young guy Gail had encountered a few days ago.

'Doctor Stewart,' one of them said. They appeared to be in the midst of dissecting a pig. Practice, Gail supposed.

'Ah, carry on,' Holly replied, with an awkward flap of her hand (the one not currently holding onto Gail's wrist). She spun around, dragging Gail with her back out into the corridor where they ran smack bang into Rodney. If he noticed Holly's grip on Gail, he didn't let on, but Holly quickly let go.

'Rodney,' Holly said, looking as discomposed as Gail had ever seen her. Actually, that was a lie because whenever Gail made Holly come she always looked completely undone, but in a sweet and sated way, not panicked like she'd been caught stealing cookies.

'I was told you were in the building, detective,' Rodney said to Gail, 'good news. We got skin samples from under the victim's fingernails.'

'So I heard,' Gail said and then wished she hadn't because Rodney looked deflated all of a sudden. 'I'm afraid Doctor Stewart stole your thunder.'

….

'Baxter's grandmother does live in Ottawa,' Frankie told Gail when she got back to 15. 'Jesus you look like shit. Didn't sleep well?'

'And good morning to you, Anderson,' Gail scowled.

'Did you see the good doctor at the morgue?'

'Dr Bronowski, yes.'

'I didn't mean Rodney—'

'Whatever,' Gail interrupted, 'we've got skin samples.'

'Excellent,' Frankie was gleeful. 'And Dov dug out a domestic violence complaint against Baxter that was made a few years back. His then girlfriend was going to file for a restraining order and then withdrew the complaint. Moved to the US apparently.'

'So what now?'

'We've got enough to put out an APB on Baxter. Ottawa PD are going to pay the grandmother a visit too.'

'If he's dumb enough Baxter might actually be hiding out with her.'

'We can only hope.'

The rest of the day dragged. Ottawa PD got back to say the grandmother was alive and well and hadn't taken ill as Baxter claimed. She had last seen Baxter the Christmas before last and described him as a 'good for nothing so-and-so' who only spoke to his parents when he needed money. As it turned out, Baxter's parents lived two doors down from the grandmother. Like her, they hadn't seem Baxter in years and didn't seem at all surprised the police were asking questions about him.

'We'll keep an eye on them but I doubt either the parents or the grandmother would help Baxter hide out,' the officer from Ottawa PD reported to Gail.

'No love lost,' Gail said.

'You can say that again!'

Frankie had the unenviable task of informing Shannon's parents of her death. They had taken a cruise to the Bahamas so Frankie had no choice but to do it over the ship phone. The Eliases had made arrangements to fly back the following day when the ship docked at Port Nassau.

'Completely devastated,' Frankie told Gail when she asked how the couple had taken the news. The senior detective looked harrowed. Nobody liked making those calls. 'But,' Frankie added, 'Mrs Elias said they always had a bad feeling about Baxter. Thought he was controlling. When Shannon was dating Baxter, they didn't see as much of her and were sure that was Baxter's doing.'

'Interesting, Lisa said Shannon gave her that impression too.' Gail observed. She realised that was niggling her. Either Lisa knew her neighbour better than she let on or Shannon was extremely candid. When she expressed as much to Frankie, the detective told her not to let her feelings for Lisa cloud her judgement.

'I wasn't,' Gail was annoyed but then let it go.

Frankie drifted off at one point and left Gail to catch up on paperwork (although why it was still called that Gail didn't know, seeing as everything was filed on the department's computer network). It left her in a foul mood, especially as she hadn't updated the case notes from the previous investigation.

To make matters worse, Elaine kept calling and then texting about a family dinner on Saturday night. Gail resolutely ignored each and every one. Then Elaine fired off a text saying she might see if the Commissioner and Doctor Stewart were free to join them. Gail nearly threw her phone across the room. I EXPECT YOUR ATTENDANCE came the next message in all caps. No, thought Gail, you demand my attendance.

Chloe bounced in just after 4 pm. 'Coming to our house warming barbecue on Saturday?' She beamed.

'What and no,' Gai said without looking away from the computer screen.

'Holly's coming.'

'Lucky her,' Gail still didn't look up.

'Um, Gail,' Chloe sounded genuinely alarmed, 'is that your mother coming this way.'

'Shit, hide me,' Gail said.

'Only if you'll come to the barbecue.'

'Yeah, whatever. You can even have my first born. Just hide me.'

Quick as a flash, Chloe bundled Gail into the coat locker. It was a new item of furniture in the pen courtesy of the clerk in requisitions who had informed them that draping jackets over the backs of chairs was a health and safety breach and from now on all such items were to be hung in the coat locker. Everyone ignored the directive, which was a good thing as there wasn't a lot of room in the locker. It was made of steel and just for a moment Gail felt the panic rising. Why had she thought getting into a confined space was a good idea, but then fortunately the arrival of her mother distracted her.

'Ah, Detective Price have you seen my daughter?'

'Not today but I've only just come on duty.'

Damn Chloe was a convincing liar, Gail thought, filing away that fact while at the same time wondering if Chloe had ever lied outright to her.

'I could have sworn I spied Gail as I came down the corridor.'

'Perhaps it was muscle memory,' Chloe suggested helpfully.

'Muscle memory?' Elaine was at her imperious best. 'What on earth do you mean? Muscle memory is related to reflex. For example, I go to the gun range to practice not just to perfect my aim but so that in situations of stress I don't have to consciously think about how to aim and discharge my weapon. It's automatic.'

'Well, not muscle memory exactly,' Chloe had lost a little of her usual vim. 'But because you expect to see Gail sitting at her desk in the detective pen you actually believe you saw her.'

'You haven't been smoking anything in your lunch break,'Elaine queried.

Chloe must have shaken her head for after a moment Elaine continued. 'Much as Gail, no doubt, sorely wishes she was a figment of my imagination and not my actual daughter, I need to speak to her. Can you pass that message on or are you lacking the requisite muscle memory.'

Did Elaine sound suspicious? Yep, she most definitely did, Gail decided. Elaine could always smell a rat. It was one of the downsides of having a mother on the force

Once Elaine left, Gail waited for several minutes to ensure the coast was really clear. It wouldn't have surprised Gail, if her mother doubled back to catch her out. From the sound of it, Frankie and someone else had come into the pen, and as she stepped out of the cabinet Gail ran smack into Lisa, or Lisa's back to be more precise.

'You,' Lisa spun around, 'since when did put yourself back in the closet.'

'Very funny,' Gail said. It had been hot in the cabinet and stuffy and Gail's face had become quite red. She hoped Lisa didn't think it was because of her.

'Dr Gordon would like a word about the case,' Frankie sounded blandly professional, like there was more to this than she was letting on. 'Chet told her Shannon was the victim.'

'Yeah,' Gail said, indicating a spare chair next to her desk.

'In private,' Lisa said, looking meaningfully at Chloe.

'Sure,' Gail agreed, 'we can use an interview room.'

'So,' Frankie said once the three of them were seated around the table.

'This is off the record.'

Gail and Frankie exchanged a look.

'Thing is Dr Gordon,' Frankie explained gently, 'we can't give you that guarantee if what you tell us is germane to the case. However, if this is a personal matter, I can promise we will be very discreet.'

'It is, personal I mean.' Lisa tapped her fingers on the table. She seemed to be deciding something. 'And it probably has nothing to do with her murder, but the thing is,' she finally said, 'Shannon and I used to flirt. It was harmless, just some banter in the lift. Then about six weeks ago she said she left her boyfriend and then one thing led to another and I ended up in her apartment and we had sex.'

Now Lisa's behaviour the previous evening made sense, the way she paled when she heard the murder had occurred in the neighbouring apartment and was hesitant and distracted. And why she knew more about Shannon than a friendly but distant neighbour would.

'Do you know if Shannon's boyfriend found out?' Gail asked.

Lisa shrugged. 'We didn't talk much after that. It was kind of awkward. For her it was break-up sex and for me commitment jitters and we just pretended it didn't happen.'

'Lisa, um Dr Gordon, I don't mean to frighten you,' Gail said softly, 'but if Shannon's boyfriend killed Shannon because he found out about you two, then I'd also be concerned for your safety. Is there any chance you could stay somewhere else for a bit?'

Lisa shook her head miserably. 'How do I explain that to Angie?' Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Gail wanted to say you should have thought of that before you slept with Shannon but she held her tongue. Who was she to judge—she'd cheated on Nick for what seemed like less.

'You met Angie, you must have seen she's not my usual type. She's kind and, and good. I've never felt this way about anyone before and I want to make it work. You know I've never asked anyone to live with me and here I am a 30-something.'

Thirty-eight, Gail thought to herself but who was counting.

'I don't want to fuck this up. You have to promise it won't get back to Angie,' Lisa was as close to pleading as she'd ever get.

'There would be no reason for us to share this information with Angie and anyway it may have no bearing on the case,' Frankie reassured her.

'What about Holly,' Lisa turned accusing eyes on Gail. 'Promise me you won't tell Holly.'

'I only deal with Dr Stewart in a professional capacity. I think your secret is safe,' Gail said.

'Professional capacity, oh sure,' Lisa scoffed, 'you two are on a collision course, or I'm an angel and not a two-timing bitch.'

As chance would have it, as Gail escorted Lisa out, Holly was beetling down the corridor with a blue folder under her arm and a determined expression.

'Oh shit,' Lisa said, 'how do I explain this.'

'Just say I wanted to clarify a few matters with you.'

'She won't buy that,' Lisa was beginning to really panic, 'you wouldn't normally make someone come down to the station for that.'

Gail sighed. Holly was getting ever nearer. 'Say I made it seem like you were being brought in for questioning so you'd squirm.' She wasn't even sure why she was doing this but just at this moment Lisa seemed so pathetic and in need of help.

'She'll be mad at you.'

'Yeah. Well, you could also just tell the truth. Holly has made allowances when you've done far worse.'

And then Holly was upon them.

'What are you doing here Lis?' she asked. She wasn't angry yet, just puzzled and quite clearly concerned about Lisa.

'I'll let you explain,' Gail said, making a speedy exit.

Gail wanted to go kick something. Better still shoot cans off a tree stump like she and Steve used to when they were kids up at the lake house. Actually, if she were honest it was a pastime that continued into adulthood. 'Better than breaking plates', Steve would grin, which one day gave them the idea of tossing plates high in the air and shooting them down. Elaine was not impressed.

The detective pen was empty save for Chloe.

'You okay?' she asked Gail, looking genuinely worried.

'Peachy,' Gail snapped, knowing full well she probably looked as you did when someone had died because that was kinda how she was feeling. It was grief she supposed, because basically she'd just nailed the final nail in the coffin of her and Holly's relationship or at least the hope she had harboured that such a thing might be possible. But then self-sabotage was her thing.

Gail was startled by Holly saying her name. Her voice was sharp and frosty, actually positively arctic, like a shard of broken ice fractured to such a point it could pierce your heart. Holly didn't look impressed. No, Holly was livid. Indeed her anger was barely contained. Clearly Lisa had gone for option A.

'Gail,' Holly repeated, her tone no less icy. Gail blinked. 'If you have a problem with me, don't take it out on Lisa.' Holly said, not caring that Chloe could hear every word.

'I don't have a problem with you.' Gail hated that she sounded like a whiny child.

'Well, you sure are giving mixed signals,' Holly threw out her arms in frustration, and in the process dropped the blue folder she had been clutching.

Gail expected a cascade of pages to fall out and hurriedly bent down to gather them but there was nothing—nada, zip, zero as Dov might say—because the folder was completely empty. Not even a bogus report.

'I'm the one giving mixed signals,' Gail said, looking up from her kneeling position on the floor and not bothering to hide her incredulity.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks for the reviews, favs and follows and for reading. Hope you enjoy this next instalment._

'Gail! What are you doing on the floor!'

Great. It was Elaine. Clearly she had doubled back. Gail should have stayed in the coat cabinet and then none of this would be happening. Holly wouldn't be glaring at her. Elaine's mouth might not be turned down in disapproval (although that was debatable as it was generally the countenance she adopted whenever Gail was in her presence) and Chloe was doing an excellent impersonation of a deer caught in headlights.

'Nothing mother,' Gail mumbled, scrambling up. She was still holding Holly's blue folder but didn't want to make a show of returning it to her.

'You really need to do something about your clumsiness,' Elaine chided, with a curt nod towards the folder.

'Well, I pass my physical every year so I guess I'm doing okay,' Gail said drily.

Elaine sighed heavily. Gail smiled back sweetly. Her mother probably wouldn't tell her off in front of Holly and Chloe, although Gail was positive she'd pay later.

'It was my—' Holly began to say but Elaine spoke over her.

'Holly dear, now I can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak! I was just on my way to see if you are free to join Bill and I for dinner on Saturday night. I've invited the Commissioner as well. And I'm here to remind my daughter not to forget to attend.' Now Elaine turned her full attention on Gail, her eyes boring into her with such intensity Gail was surprised she wasn't left with two smoking holes in her body much like when a cartoon character is shot.

'Um I'm afraid I have a commitment,' Holly apologised. The way she stuttered slightly made Gail wonder if Holly was as wary of incurring Elaine's wrath as she was.

'A commitment,' Elaine's eyes narrowed.

'D-D-Dov and I are having a working bee and barbecue,' Chloe's stutter was even more marked.

'You never told me it was a working bee,' Gail all but whined. 'If I'd known that I never would have agreed to come.'

'Gail,' Elaine said sharply but then softened her expression. 'It's nice to hear you're helping out your friends. Very community minded. We will have to take a rain-check Holly.'

Holly nodded numbly. Gail had the distinct impression she'd rather cut off a limb than attend a Peck dinner but whether that was because of her or Elaine, Gail couldn't say. Highly likely it was both of them, although right at this moment Gail sensed she took out the prize for being the least in Holly's favour.

Elaine smiled at the three women and Gail was reminded of a wolf about to eat its prey. Weird that Elaine hadn't put up more of a fight, Gail thought. Normally her mother expected Peck family dinners to take precedence over all else, even prearranged engagements. Unless you had a break in a case or were on life-support, you couldn't even use work as an excuse because Elaine had access to your roster. She'd probably checked Holly's too.

'Walk with me Holly,' Elaine said, the wolfish smile still planted across her face. 'I have a cold case that may interest you.' With that she literally swept up Holly before Holly could raise any objections.

Disturbingly the whole exchange reminded Gail of how her mother used to arrange 'suitable' play dates for her when she was a child. Without fail, when the approved friend came over, Elaine would hover at first, turning on her full charm and making it seem as though she were a cool and easy-going mom. It meant Gail had no chance of recruiting the new friend as an ally against her mother.

'No offence Gail,' Chloe said as they watched Elaine disappear down the corridor (she moved at an inhumanly brisk pace) with Holly striding to keep up. 'But your mother is even beginning to look like a wolf.'

Chloe was referring, of course, to her conviction that Gail was raised by wolves. That comment had been followed by Chloe launching herself at Gail to envelop her in a hug. Not wanting a repeat, Gail took several steps back.

'Gotta go find Frankie,' she said hastily.

'Oh Gail,' Chloe sung out to Gail's retreating back, 'wear painting clothes on Saturday.'

Gail stopped and turned around. 'I just remembered. I have an appointment Saturday.'

'To do what?' Chloe demanded, clearly not believing Gail, and in a pushy way that was most unlike her.

'Boil my head.'

'Gail Peck,' Chloe said in a manner which would have done Elaine proud. 'You made a promise.'

'And my mother still managed to find me. So you didn't exactly hold up your end of the bargain.'

'Don't you try and weasel out of this.' Chloe was wagging her finger. Gail half expected her to add 'young lady.' Instead she said, 'I never agreed to hide you from the Superintendent in perpetuity—'

'In per what,' Gail interrupted, mainly to annoy Chloe because she knew in perpetuity meant forever. Chloe figured as much because she responded by making an exasperated face.

'There's gonna be beer and pizza. All you can eat and drink.' Now Chloe's voice was wheedling. Clearly she'd decided a change in tack was in order. 'So either be there or I'm coming for your first born,' she added in a voice so sweet Gail actually found it menacing.

'Alright, alright no need to overreact wicked fairy god mother,' Gail grumbled. 'Don't forget. No tomatoes on my pizza.'

'Done,' Chloe beamed and clapped her hands together in delight. Who did that? Chloe really was very weird, Gail decided. Maybe she could arrive late on Saturday, drink beer, eat pizza and leave. With any luck she would avoid Holly altogether—that's if Holly turned up, which given their recent conversation, was probably highly unlikely

'And don't even think about just showing up for free booze and food. No beer or pizza until you've pitched in and helped.'

'Geez I liked it much better when you were the good fairy god mother,' Gail said as she stomped off to find Frankie.

The next few days dragged. Miles Baxter had gone to ground. For some reason it gave Gail an uneasy feeling. She couldn't figure out why. It wasn't the first time a suspect had disappeared on them and it would't be the last but still Gail couldn't shake the sense of foreboding. She found herself wondering how often Holly visited Lisa and wished there was some way she could warn her to stay away from the apartment. Holly would probably think her crazy.

On Friday Gail woke early, even before the birdsong. It was more dark than light, blunting the outlines in her bedroom and giving the morning a fuzzy quality. Gail didn't want to get up but nor could she fall back asleep, so she hauled herself out of bed and pulled on her running clothes.

Her apartment wasn't far from the Yonge Street entrance to the Beltline trail, a former railway corridor which ran for about nine kilometres through the northeast of the city. It was usually relatively quiet at this hour, still too early even for the fanatics, and Gail only passed a handful of people.

She had been running for about 15 minutes when she saw a familiar figure approaching. Seemed Holly couldn't sleep either, although she generally tended to get in a run before work. Elaine would approve. Holly looked good—of course she did because she always looked good. Gail might go as far to say she looked like a vision coming towards her but that was a little too cheesy for Gail's liking. Holly was wearing a purple tank top that showed off her biceps and cropped black tights.

For her part, Gail had on an old over-sized orange t-shirt that did nothing for her skin tone and baggy track pants that she probably should have binned months ago. When she had woken she'd run a hand through her short hair, making the tufts stick up in uneven spikes. Bed hair, Holly used to call it, quite taken by the way once she cut Gail's hair it seemed to have a mind of its own, and sometimes Holly referred to it as sex hair depending on the nature of their activities in said bed.

Gail wondered if she had time to hide before Holly noticed her. There were trees on either side of this section of the trail but no undergrowth to conceal her. Gail had just come through an underpass—perhaps she could turn around and see if there was a track leading to the road. She came to a stop and half jogged on the spot, frantically looking from Holly to the underpass, and back again but then it was too late.

'Gail?' Holly sounded surprised and also a little unsure, as if she wasn't entirely convinced that it was indeed Gail. She wasn't wearing her glasses and was squinting at Gail so perhaps she had foregone contacts as well.

'Um, yes?' It was said like a question as if Gail was also uncertain of her identity.

Holly looked around, almost like she was doing a perimeter scan (although clearly without glasses she couldn't see very far) as though trying to spot other people. Maybe she thought Gail was undercover or something.

'What are you doing here?' Holly finally asked as her gaze came back to Gail's face.

'Oh you know,' Gail flapped her hand airily, 'shopping for shoes.'

Holly half rolled her eyes. 'You Gail Peck are voluntarily running.' Now she was smirking, clearly at having caught Gail out

'Is that what I'm doing cause really I had no idea.' If Holly hadn't seemed so surprised Gail might not have continued being a smart ass.

The sarcasm wasn't lost on Holly, who gave her a look. It wasn't an Elaine look which scorched everything in her path and turned grown men and women into quivering masses and sent all else, even tiny rodents, scurrying for cover. No, this was a don't give me that bullshit look. Holly arched an eyebrow and her head was tilted just a little to the side. It made Gail stop in her tracks and even feel abashed. Damn it, how did Holly have this affect on her!

'Is this a new thing?' Holly asked.

Gail shrugged. Should she tell Holly it was better than staring at her ceiling at 5 am and that running was something she had taken up soon after Holly left for San Francisco? Kind of ironic really given Gail hadn't wanted to be reminded of Holly but she had needed an outlet to stop herself obsessing and drinking herself stupid at the Penny every night. But she told Holly none of these things. Instead, she said, 'Ever since it got harder to burn off the donuts but hey I guess everyone's metabolism slows as you get older.'

Holly looked amused. 'You're not that old,' she said almost teasingly, 'anyway, the rate at which the metabolism slows as you age is marginal. Most people put on weight as as they get age because they stop being so active.'

'Ergo I'm out running,' Gail held out her hands as if this fact were obvious.

'Never thought I'd see the day,' Holly shook her head in mock amazement.

In the short period they were together, Holly had tried to convince Gail to come running with her on a few occasions but each time Gail had managed to persuade her that staying in bed was a better option and a much more fun way to exercise. Quite unexpectedly Gail had a flash of one such morning, and of Holly naked beneath her, half protesting but laughing too and pretending to dodge Gail's kisses before finally giving in. Gail remembered trailing her fingers across Holly's belly and then to the top of her thigh, just that touch enough to elicit a thrill within her own body, and then as she brushed her finger tips against Holly's centre, she felt Holly's breath, hot and urgent, against her ear as she said 'just fuck me Gail.'

'Gail. Gail,' Holly was waving her hand in front of Gail's face to get her attention.

'Um what?' Gail blinked. Had Holly asked her something and she missed it. Too caught up in her blue reverie. Gail really had to stop these sex flashbacks. Maybe there was a self-help group for people with this kind of problem. There was a group for practically everything else so why not this?

'Where did you just go?' Holly wasn't being intrusive. She actually looked worried.

'Um,' Gail started to redden. No way in hell was she going to answer that question. She probably couldn't use the narcolepsy excuse either. Holly wouldn't buy it. She was too smart. No doubt she could list off all the symptoms of the disorder and would know Gail was faking it. 'I better keep running.'

'Gail wait,' Holly put a hand on her arm. 'What really happened when you spoke to Lisa down at the station.'

'Why don't you ask Lisa,' Gail took a step back so Holly was forced to remove her hand. Well, that came out of the blue, she thought, not letting on that she was surprised by Holly's question.

'I did. She's clammed up. Says she doesn't want to talk about it.'

'That traumatic huh,' Gail deflected. 'And I didn't even break out the thumb screws.'

Holly didn't even smile. 'So what aren't you telling me?'

Gail sighed. She had made a promise to Lisa and much as she disliked the woman, a promise was a promise. 'I'm no fan of Lisa but do you really think I'm the sort of person who would drag her down to the station just to play games?'

'I,' Holly started but then her phone rang. 'I've gotta take this. It's work,' she explained, turning slightly away from Gail. Then Gail heard her saying 'Uh huh' and asking if the scene was secure. 'Can you text me the address. Great. I can be there in about 20. Who's the lead detective? Nash. Ok good.'

'Body?' Gail asked as Holly turned back to her with an apologetic expression. Although she had nothing to feel sorry about. It was not like she was breaking a date. They hadn't arranged to run into each other. In fact, Gail had been doing her level best to avoid Holly.

'A gang shooting on Queens. I gotta go.'

Gail nodded but where a moment ago all she wanted to do was get away from Holly now she felt a flop of disappointment as if Holly were indeed cancelling a date at the last minute.

'We'll talk soon, right?' Holly looked at her earnestly. 'You'll be at Chloe's barbecue tomorrow?'

Gail sucked in her lip and nodded pensively.

'Now I've seen Gail Peck running, I can't wait to see her wield a paint brush,' Holly teased.

'Go,' Gail huffed and pointed down the track. 'You don't want to keep that body waiting.' It wasn't lost on Gail that at the moment all seemed to be very nearly forgiven. 'Hey Holly, wait,' she called out.

Holly slowed and turned but kept jogging backwards. 'Yeah?' She smiled, a big lovely smile where her lips quirked lopsidedly to one side. It was enough to embolden Gail to continue.

'You're not mad at me anymore?'

'Depends,' Holly was still jogging backwards and smiling.

'On what?'

'On whether you tell me what happened with Lisa.'

'You know police interviews are confidential or are you not up on your legal jurisprudence,' Gail couldn't help grinning, especially as she could tell Holly was amused by the banter and clearly caught the reference to their first meeting.

'What I do know is that if you'd pulled Lisa in for questioning she would have had Sidney down at the station raising hell before you had a chance to blink.'

'Yeah?' Gail raised her eyebrow sceptically but she was still grinning. 'I thought Sidney's speciality was corporate law.'

Holly laughed, then gave a wave and sprinted off down the track.

….

A slow day at work gave Gail plenty of time to run and rerun her conversation with Holly. She actually took great heart from the fact that Holly seemed to doubt Lisa's version of events. Gail shouldn't have been surprised Holly would figure out there was more to the story than either she or Lisa were letting on. Holly was too smart for her own good, although in this case it might just be for the good, Gail decided, suddenly quite buoyed by the prospect of seeing Holly at the barbecue.

Just after lunch Mike, her friend from Vancouver PD, sent a message reminding her it was the last day to submit applications for the detective position. Nothing to lose checking it out Gail thought, pulling her iPad towards her, even though she knew she would message Mike back to say thanks but now wasn't the right time.

This was how Chloe and Frankie found Gail, hunched over her iPad in the detective pen. Gail should have heard them creep upon her. She blamed lack of sleep and the early morning encounter with Holly, which if she was honest was proving something of a distraction.

'Whatcha doing Gaily,' Chloe said in a sing song voice. She appeared to be in high spirits. Well higher than normal, even though you'd think that wasn't humanly possible. Perhaps Chloe was an alien.

'Gaily?' Gail scowled. 'Just no.'

'Bet she's writing a love letter,' Frankie said, managing to extract the iPad from where Gail had tucked it under her elbow.

Gail was too distracted by trying to wipe the ridiculous grin off Chloe's face with her best death stare to notice what Frankie was doing until it was too late.

'Hey,' she jumped up and tried to grab the iPad back but Frankie was too quick.

She punted it to Chloe who danced away while Frankie wrapped her arms around Gail to hold her back.

'Get the fuck off me Anderson,' Gail said, trying to break free. What the hell were these two up to? Had they been drinking? She couldn't smell any alcohol on Frankie's breath and they were both on duty. Still, she expected Chloe to overstep into her personal life but not Frankie. Maybe Frankie was just using this as an excuse to be an asshole.

'Vancouver,' Chloe came to a dead stop. 'You're applying for a job in Vancouver?' All her earlier exuberance seemed quite knocked out of her.

'Who's applying for a job in Vancouver?' It was Traci, who had come into the pen closely followed by Holly.

'Gail apparently,' Frankie said, releasing her hold on Gail.

'Not that it's anyone business,' Gail snarled as she managed to retrieve her iPad from Chloe.

'Yes it is,' Frankie said. 'As your friends and colleagues we have a duty to stage an intervention if you do something reckless or stupid.'

Was Frankie enjoying this? Gail had never heard the detective indicate she cared what anyone did, well as long as it didn't interfere with her life's goal of finding attractive women to sleep with, that and making it to the Penny on a regular basis.

'And Vancouver probably sucks,' Chloe pointed out. 'I mean Holly left. It can't be good. Go on Holly, tell Gail why it sucks.'

'Um,' was all Holly could muster. She actually looked quite pale. Maybe she wasn't feeling well, Gail decided, although she'd been the picture of health this morning.

Before anymore could be said, Oliver stuck his head in the pen. 'Peckling, Anderson,' he said. 'We've got a reported sighting of Miles Baxter outside Shannon Elias' apartment. The doorman thinks he saw Baxter loitering across the street.'

…..

'Are you sure it was Miles,' Frankie asked.

'Fairly,' Chet the concierge said in a way that admitted some doubt. 'He was wearing a baseball cap pulled down low and looked uncharacteristically unkept.'

'You were able to notice all that from your desk in the lobby? It's a least 50 metres from here to the other side of the street.'

Chet drew himself up. He clearly didn't like being challenged. '20/20 vision,' he said, clearly offended Frankie would question what he had seen.

'You said he looked unkempt,' Gail said, 'like he'd been sleeping rough?'

'Maybe,' Chet replied, 'he was pacing back and forth, back and forth. That's what drew my attention.'

'So he was agitated?'

'Yes, exactly that.' Chet nodded vigorously, pleased Gail at least seemed to believe him.

'Do you have security cameras out front?'

'Only trained on the entrance, not across the street.'

'Pity,' Frankie said, 'if you see Miles again call us immediately.'

Chet nodded.

'And don't try to take him on, especially if he's agitated,' Gail advised.

Once outside, Gail looked up and down the street. In this part of town it was wall to wall apartments so there wasn't any point canvassing. No random shopkeeper or busker who happened to see a crazed guy pacing up and down the sidewalk. If Miles had been here, he was long gone. Andy and Chris had made several circuits of the block and surrounding area in the cruiser but even if Miles was still in the neighbourhood he was making himself scarce.

'If Chet did see Miles then it sounds like the guy is not in a good way,' Frankie said. 'Like maybe he's flipped out.'

'Should we warn Lisa?' Gail asked.

'You think he's come back for her?'

'Can't rule it out.'

'Yeah, it's probably a good idea.'

Lisa didn't answer when Gail called. She left a message asking her to call back, saying something had come up in the case which could be urgent. There was no guessing whether Lisa would bother to respond. Gail and Frankie then walked over to the apartment complex on the opposite side of the road.

'It's sure to have security cameras,' Frankie said, 'all these high end places do.'

This apartment also had a 'concierge' according to Bert the 'door custodian' who allowed them entry after they flashed their badges.

'In my neighbourhood we only have building supers,' Gail muttered which made Frankie laugh.

'We did see a guy pacing,' the concierge said, looking across at Bert who nodded.

'I went outside to move him on but he bolted when he saw me coming,' Bert added. He was a big guy made of solid muscle. No doubt he spent his spare time in the gym, although Gail suspected Bert may also be pumped up on steroids. No wonder Miles ran.

'If you come behind the desk we can review the footage,' the concierge offered. 'I'm glad the police are doing something about getting these hobos off the street. They try to sleep under the overhang out front and Bert is always having to move them on. I know a lot of them have mental health issues and we should be compassionate but it distresses the residents.'

I bet it does, Gail thought as she took in the marble and gilt foyer with its accent lighting and oversized modular lobby chairs, which probably nobody actually sat in, and two giant vases standing sentry on either side of the alcove which housed a bank of elevators.

'You thought this guy was a hobo?' she asked.

'Maybe more like someone who was having an episode. Here he is,' the concierge indicated the video footage on the computer screen. Even though it was shot from above, and it was a little grainy, there was no mistaking Miles Baxter. Not only was he pacing, but he seemed to be ranting, occasionally throwing out a fist, perhaps at some imagined foe.

'He looks disturbed alright,' Frankie said.

Lisa called when they were back in the car.

'Hope you're ringing to say you've caught that scumbag,' Lisa said by way of greeting. She was clearly at the hospital. In the background Gail could hear a doctor being paged and very faintly the beep beep of a machine.

'Um, no,' Gail started but Lisa spoke over her.

'Well, don't waste my time Peck. I'm between surgeries and unless this is urgent—'

'It might be.' Now it was Gail who interrupted. 'Miles Baxter was seen in the vicinity of your apartment building about an hour ago.'

'And you didn't arrest him!'

'He was gone by the time the uniforms arrived. We'll increase patrols in the area, but Dr Gordon is there any chance you'd reconsider relocating, just for a few days or until we catch this guy.'

'And when is that going to be? Next year.'

'Maybe you and Angie could stay at Holly's,' Gail suggested, ignoring Lisa's jibe.

'You haven't told Holly, have you Peck,' Lisa said, a cold kind of anger in her voice that surprised Gail. 'You made a promise.'

'I know. I haven't said a word to Holly but for your own safety—'

'You got any proof this maniac is looking for me.'

'No, but I'd strongly advise you to be cautious. From all accounts, he may be mentally unstable.'

'You think,' Lisa was scornful. 'He just murdered his ex. Kind of a textbook definition of unstable.'

'Can you at least promise to be careful.'

'Yes, of course, but I wouldn't need to be if you keystone cops did your job properly and put this guy behind bars. I have to go.' Lisa rang off abruptly.

Gail sighed and threw her phone on the dashboard.

'I'm impressed with your patience, Peck,' Frankie said, as she pulled the car out into the traffic. 'What the hell is Holly doing with a friend like that.'

'History, I guess,'Gail shrugged.

'Lisa is a grade A bitch. Speaking of, you don't owe her anything and she can't hold you to that promise. You need to tell Holly the real reason Lisa was at the station. Chloe and Traci both agree.'

'What the fuck! Did you workshop this.'

'And what's this bullshit about moving to Vancouver,' Frankie asked, ignoring what Gail had said.

'I never said I was moving to Vancouver. You and Chloe just assumed.'

'Yeah,' Frankie was sceptical.

'Jeez, why is everyone up in my business.'

'Stricken,' Frankie said after a moment, seemingly quite pleased with the word.

'What the hell are you talking about,' Gail scowled.

'That's how Holly looked when she found out you're moving to Vancouver. Stricken.'

'I'm not moving to Van—really, you thought Holly looked upset.' Maybe that explained why Holly was so washed out.

'I know she did,' Frankie said as she swung the car into the lot behind 15. 'So what are you going to do about it, Peck?'

Gail twisted her mouth. What indeed?

'You know for two people who are so accomplished in their professional lives, you and Holly suck at relationships.'

'Like you're the expert, Anderson,' Gail snarked as she got out of the car, not wanting to admit that Frankie's comment about Holly's reaction to the Vancouver news had given her pause. Despite dismissing Frankie as no relationship expert, Gail knew the detective was observant and had a knack for reading people. It was something Gail normally prided herself on but which quite deserted her when it came to Holly.

….

The following morning Gail dressed carefully. Chloe had said painting clothes but no way was Gail going to let Holly see her in an old T-shirt and baggy track pants for a second day running. She found a pair of tight jeans with a small rip in the knee, old enough that she wouldn't mind sacrificing them to the painting project, and a black top she hardly ever wore but which was fitted enough that she knew she looked good in it.

Gail had slept well the night before. Maybe it was the growing certainty that Holly felt the same way she did. In any case, Gail woke with a resolve to finally have a proper conversation with Holly. Admittedly the prospect was daunting—Gail couldn't quite banish the niggling thought that she might have got this all wrong but that would also mean that Frankie was also way off base.

However, when Gail reflected on what had transpired between she and Holly since Elaine's party two weeks ago (had it really only been two weeks), she had to admit she could understand why Holly might think she was giving mixed signals. Gail was petrified of having her heart broken again by Holly, and so she had been quick to find reasons to doubt any signs of encouragement from Holly and even quicker to put her guard back up. But what if Holly felt the same way? What if it was just as hard to make herself vulnerable again?

Frankie collected Gail just after 10 am. 'I see you dressed for the occasion,' she said acerbically.

'What? These are old clothes,' Gail protested.

'Whatever you say Peck.'

'I would have thought a working bee would be the last place on earth you'd want to be on a Saturday.'

'Normally yes but Chloe invited Marchard from 33. Anyway I could say the same about you.'

'Marchand?' Who's that?' Gail screwed up her face, trying to picture who Frankie was referring to.

'New detective at 33. Tall, blonde. She stopped by 15 yesterday afternoon.'

'I don't remember seeing anyone.' Gail screwed up her face even more.

'Too caught up in your ruminations.'

Gail rolled her eyes. It was true. She had been rather preoccupied by thoughts of Holly but she wasn't going to admit as much to Frankie.

The painting was well underway by the time Gail and Frankie arrived. Dov and Chloe had bought a fixer-upper, one of those narrow two-story bay and gable houses built in the Victorian era. It needed work but had gorgeous hardwood floors which were now covered by drop sheets.

'Gail, we need you in the storage room,' Chloe announced, sounding sweet and officious at the same time. Only Chloe would have preassigned tasks. She probably had a spreadsheet.

'Follow me.' She handed Gail a paintbrush and led her down the corridor, past Andy who was up a ladder, and then past the kitchen, where Chris was sanding back flaking paint and who gave Gail a cheerful wave, and finally to the storage room. 'And ta da here we are.' Chloe stood aside and gave Gail a little shove inside.

'What the hell,' Gail started to say but her protest died when she saw Holly, who seemed to be in the process of dismantling some cruddy looking shelves.

Holly was wearing paint splattered dungaree cutoffs which made her legs seem impossibly long. The brace was broken on one side of the dungarees so the bib flapped over to reveal more of the white tank top beneath. Holly's hair was in a top knot and tied up in a scarf and she looked so effortlessly sexy Gail almost forgot to breathe. She must have been staring because Holly gave her an amused look and then said 'Hello, Gail.'

The room was tiny. It could barely fit two people. To call it a room was in fact a misnomer. How the hell did Chloe expect two of them to paint it?

'Um,' Gail said, sticking her head back out the door. 'There must be some mistake with your schedule Price. This is a one-person job.' But Chloe was beating a fast retreat and ignored her. 'Hmph,' Gail stuck her head back into the storage room.

'Too close for comfort?' Holly asked.

Gail shook her head. She didn't want Holly to think that, especially when nothing could be further from the truth, when she had in fact resolved to be honest with Holly about her feelings. 'I think our friends have set us up.'

Holly nodded in agreement. 'Kinda looks that way.'

'Do you mind?' Even as she said it, Gail knew she was chickening out.

'Do you?' Holly tilted her head to the side and smiled.

'I asked first.'

This time Holly didn't answer. Instead she took two strides towards Gail (which was basically the width of the room) and kissed her. It happened so fast Gail found herself pushed against the wall before she completely caught on. She pulled Holly with her so that as the kiss deepened, the more Holly pressed against her front and the more Gail just wanted to rip those dungarees off and fuck Holly right there against the wall of the airless storage room. It was always like this with them—that physical pull that overtook all else.

Hard as it was to do, Gail knew she shouldn't, they shouldn't (because Holly seemed just as eager) act on that impulse (as they almost did that drunken night at the Penny) before they finally had a proper talk. Gail focussed instead on just the kiss. And it felt so good to be kissing Holly like this, sober and with clear intent. It felt, oh god it was a cliché, but it felt like coming home. And while every single neurone in her brain seemed to be firing and every one of her nerve endings tingling, Gail also experienced something she could only describe as an equilibrium, as though she had been off kilter for years and now everything had righted itself in her world.

'Not in the least,' Holly said when they broke the kiss, finally answering Gail's question. Gail looked at her quizzically. 'I don't mind them setting us up,' Holly spelt it out.

Gail grinned and cupped Holly's cheek with her hand. 'Me neither,' she said as she leaned back in and, still smiling, kissed Holly again.

'Peck,' came Frankie's voice from just outside the room. 'We've got a situation.' Her voice was urgent and for a moment Gail wondered if she was messing with them. Now Frankie was at the doorway. If she noticed how close Gail and Holly were standing, or their flushed cheeks, or Gail's hand upon Holly's lower back, she didn't say anything.

'Situation?' Gail asked, dazed from the kissing and still not sure if Frankie was being serious.

'At Shannon Elias' apartment. Miles Baxter has taken a hostage.'

'Lisa,' Gail said, her brain finally kicking into gear.

'No,' Frankie replied, 'Angie.'


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you for all the reviews, follows, favs and for reading. Hope you enjoy this chapter. It is focussed entirely on Gail, so those wanting more of Gail and Holly together will have to bide their time. That said, there are no guarantees after this chapter…_

_And Cote, the spa-toned ass line is just for you because I loved that description of Lisa._

_Leave a review—I love to hear what readers think._

…..

When Frankie and Gail pulled up there were three squad cars and an ambulance outside the apartment. The street had been cordoned off and two media vans were parked on the other side of the tape, with reporters already doing live crosses to their stations.

Through the plate glass of the apartment lobby, Gail could make out Chet's prone body by the door. Baxter was behind the concierge desk with a gun to Angie's head. He had bound her hands and every now and again pulled roughly at the rope, waved the gun around and shouted something that at this distance was inaudible.

They found Oliver standing next to the open door of a cruiser, the car radio transceiver in his hand. He motioned Gail and Frankie over.

'I don't think we have ten minutes,' Oliver was saying into the transceiver. 'Okay, we'l do what we can.' He tuned to the two women with a glum expression.

'What was that about?' Frankie asked.

'ETF hostage negotiator. Soonest they can be here and in place is ten minutes. Maybe longer.'

'And Baxter's close to cracking?'

'Hard to say. His behaviour is erratic. One minute lucid. The next screaming.'

'So Unstable and volatile' Frankie summarised.

'Yep,' Oliver nodded and reached into the car to pull out two vests which he passed to the two women. 'And your weapons,' he said as he handed over the guns in their holsters.

Frankie gave a nod of thanks.

'You know, Ollie, I did that hostage negotiation course last year.' Gail was hesitant. Theory was one thing but to put it in practice when someone's life was on the line was a whole another question. She didn't look at Oliver but concentrated on adjusting the strap on her shoulder holster.

The course had been Elaine's idea. 'Never hurts to have more strings to your bow,' she'd told Gail, 'and something like this could be a stepping stone.' Gail had only agreed because Elaine had presented a stark choice or non-choice depending on your point of view—the course or another blind date.

'That's right,' Oliver tapped his index finger against his chin. 'I don't know if I want to send you in there. Baxter's already shot the doorman.'

'Concierge,' Gail supplied inconsequentially. 'Chet. Do we know if he's alive?'

Oliver shook his head. 'We tried calling Baxter on his mobile and via the phone in the lobby but he didn't answer.'

'So who alerted police he had Angie?' Frankie asked.

'One of the residents. Thomas Shamsie. He came out of the elevator just after Baxter grabbed Angie. Apparently the doorman went to her aid and Baxter shot him point blank. Then he ordered Shamsie out, saying he'd release Angie in exchange for Doctor Gordon.'

'Shit,' Gail said. Did all roads—or perhaps all disasters—lead to Lisa? And Chet a hero? She wouldn't have picked that.

'What about the other residents in the building?' Frankie asked.

'We're evacuating them via the basement car park. It comes out on the street directly behind the building.'

'And Lisa, um Dr Gordon?' Gail said.

'Haven't been able to reach her,' Oliver shook his head. 'But we need to keep her away from the scene.'

Frankie turned to Gail. 'Would Holly know where she might be?'

'Ah, that's right Holly was at Dr Gordon's apartment the night you where called to the homicide,' Oliver said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Quite possibly he also remembered, or Frankie had reminded him, that Dr Gordon was the Lisa who had played a part in the demise of Gail and Holly's relationship. Though, if not for Lisa, Gail probably would have found some other excuse to crash and burn the best thing that had ever happened to her.

'Yeah,' Gail said heavily. Holly and Lisa's friendship with Lisa had complicated this case in ways Gail hadn't anticipated. Although much as she disliked the plastic surgeon, she found she couldn't judge her too harshly for cheating on Angie. After all, Gail was an expert at sabotaging relationships or anything good that came here way.

'What does Baxter want with Dr Gordon?' Oliver asked

'She slept with Shannon. Could be what drove him to kill her,' Frankie said.

'Hmm,' Oliver frowned. 'Can you give Holly a call, Gail. It's worth a try.'

Holly didn't answer immediately and when she did it sounded as though she was on the car speaker.

'Lisa goes to a spa on Saturday mornings. I know the place. She took me there once. We can swing by on the way over.'

'What do you mean we and why are you coming here?'

'Chloe's with me. The others have gone to the station to see if there's anything they can do.'

'Holly, there is no reason for you to be at the scene. Just get Lisa and keep her spa toned-ass away from here.'

'Is Baxter after her?' It was Chloe who asked the question.

'Yep,' Gail popped the p. 'Said he'll exchange Angie for Lisa. We can't have Lisa anywhere near the scene. I gotta go.'

'Gail, wait,' It was Holly, her voice urgent.

'Yeah, what?'

'Um, just be careful, okay.' It was said tentatively, like Holly wasn't sure she had a right to assume she could ask this of Gail.

'Always am,' Gail said more flippantly than she intended and rang off. Part of her longed to call Holly back to confess she wanted Holly to be that person who cared the most. The one who sent her forth with messages of love and caution, and who gave Gail every reason to be careful.

Until Holly, Gail had always felt that her safety or indeed survival didn't matter all that much to anyone, with the exception perhaps of Elaine, who would expect Gail to go down in a blaze of glory. Woe betide if Gail had a prosaic death like her father's second cousin Alan, who died not in the line of duty but from sepsis after he was too stubborn to seek treatment for an ingrown toenail.

In some ways it was easier to go into a situation thinking no one cared. It allowed for greater clarity. Gail could focus on what needed to be done rather than worrying about whether she'd get home. But as she and Frankie had sped through downtown Toronto, the siren flashing and whirring on top of the car, Gail had felt as though a part of her was back with Holly in that tiny stuffy storage room at Chloe and Dov's place.

'You okay,' Frankie had asked as they set off, perhaps noticing that Gail's head wasn't completely in the game.

Gail ran a hand through her hair. She needed to focus wholly on the situation they'd been called out to. Yet when Gail thought about Angie she wondered if her actions—or lack of action—had put Angie in harm's way .

As if sensing where her thoughts had gone, Frankie said, 'you warned Lisa she and Angie could be in danger.'

'I should have insisted they go stay somewhere else. I shouldn't have agreed to keep Lisa's secret.'

'So you feel partly responsible?' Frankie asked carefully.

Gail didn't reply immediately. Could she have prevented Baxter taking Angie hostage if she'd spoken up? 'Yeah. I guess I do,' she finally said.

'Bullshit,' Frankie had exclaimed. 'If Lisa hadn't slept with Shannon in the first place. No scratch that. If men like Baxter didn't exist, then Angie would be safe. And we could reduce the police force by half.'

'Did we do enough to look for Baxter?' Gail worried at her lip. Was Lisa right? Had they failed to do their job properly?

'Nothing else we could have done,' Frankie said. 'Of that I'm certain. None of us, including Lisa, is responsible for Baxter's actions. Don't beat yourself up about this.'

'But,' Gail started to say and then stopped abruptly as there flashed before her an image of Jerry bleeding out on the floor of Perick's house. As always, she experienced anew the desperation at her powerlessness to go to his aid, and that familiar sharp stab that she had come to recognise as sorrow.

If you went by Frankie's logic, Jerry's death was all down to Perick. Yet Gail would never stop wondering whether Jerry might still be alive if she'd done things differently, and if she'd been a better cop, more observant and less self-absorbed.

'Peck, I was in the room too when Lisa admitted sleeping with Shannon. I could have said something,' Frankie had continued. 'You at least warned Lisa. She chose to ignore you. Even so, there was nothing to suggest Baxter would do this or even knew about Lisa and Shannon.'

And yet it had been a possibility. It always was with men like this, whose volatility made them entirely unpredictable. Gail had done nothing to alert Angie, rather had reassured her that Baxter was unlikely to come back. Admittedly that was before she knew about Lisa and Shannon.

As Gail pocketed her phone, Frankie looked at her expectantly.

'Holly and Chloe are collecting Lisa. She goes to a spa on Saturday mornings.'

Frankie arched an eyebrow. Normally Gail might have laughed but now didn't feel like the time for levity. As if to underscore that, a muffled scream came from the apartment lobby. Baxter had put some sort of halter around Angie's neck and yanked it hard to bring her around in front of him.

'He's using Angie as a shield,' Gail said.

'Yep.' Oliver's mouth was set in a grim line.

'At least it means Baxter wants to stay alive for now,' Frankie said. 'With Angie yoked to him, ETF won't be able to get a clean shot.'

'And hopefully he's smart enough to realise if he kills Angie all bets are off,' Oliver said.

Baxter was moving about, careful to drag Angie with him. From out on the street, Gail couldn't hear but it looked as though Angie was whimpering. Baxter had no patience for that and hit her across the side of the face with the butt of his gun. It shocked Angie enough that she went completely still.

'This is escalating. We can't wait for ETF,' Gail said.

'I think you're right,' Oliver agreed reluctantly.

'Is there a back way into the lobby?' Gail asked. 'In a place like this I can't imagine the doorman would come to work via the front door or use the same elevator as the residents.'

'Like a service lift? Good point,' Frankie said. 'Have we got officers down in the basement car park?'

Oliver nodded. 'They're still evacuating the building.'

'Okay, why don't Gail and I go take a look. See if can find a back way in.'

Oliver didn't answer immediately and he didn't look happy. 'No going in to the lobby without my say so and no heroics,' he finally said. 'Let's leave that to the good folk from ETF.'

'Noted. If we find another way in it could give ETF a head start,' Frankie said. She pulled her glock out and for the second time checked to see it was loaded and once satisfied returned the gun to the holster. Then she adjusted the Velcro straps on her vest and finally looked at her watch and patted down her hair.

Frankie went through this routine in the exact same sequence every time she went into a raid or a potentially life threatening situation. It was too precise to be a nervous tic. Gail had seen plenty of colleagues do similar things until the routine became imbued with all the significance of a ritual, no nonsense straight down the line colleagues who normally gave little truck to superstition. This is what I did and survived, so next time I'll do the same thing and the next and the next. Gail wasn't certain if Frankie was even conscious she was doing it.

Maybe Gail needed a routine of her own . Her mother had taught her to jump up and down before a raid to ensure nothing jingled in her pockets but that was the extent of it. Andy still gave Gail a strange look every time she did it. Gail didn't even offer up a prayer, having no real belief in an afterlife or all knowing deity.

Duncan was directing the evacuation through the car park. To everyone's surprise (but perhaps not Gail's) he had become a reasonable cop. He'd never make detective and never be anything but competent at his job but at least you could now depend on him. After Andy's disastrous experience as his training officer, Duncan was eventually passed to Gail whose particular brand of tough love and encouragement seemed to get results.

'You almost done,' Frankie asked him as they watched a rookie escort a couple with two small children—one in a stroller and the other just a baby who was swaddled in a blanket and clutched tightly to her mother's chest.

The two women had that air of false calm you adopt when you don't want to alarm those around you (in this case the children), a calm which was belied by their clipped pace. The rookie who had escorted them down in the lift was reassuring, gently directing them up the ramp to another officer who was waiting at the entrance to the car park. From there, residents were being taken to a nearby community hall or advised to stay with friends until the situation was over.

'Two more floors to clear, detective' Duncan said. 'So far everyone is being fairly cooperative.'

'Have you noticed if there's a service lift down here?'

Duncan shook his head. 'But there's a locked door over by the bin hoppers.

I put a rookie, Nixon, on it just in case. That was right wasn't it?'

'Yeah,' Gail nodded. 'Wise to take precautions.' Outwardly Duncan might seem full of braggadocio and to be blithely, infuriatingly unaware of his missteps but he had a tendency to second guess his decisions that revealed a lack of self confidence. Gail wanted to remind him to back himself but now was not the time.

'We're looking for another way in,' Frankie explained before following Gail who had set off on the direction of the door.

It was partly obscured by the hoppers and a series of exposed pipes which were painted bright yellow and ran along the length of the car park ceiling, terminating in a bank of heating units on the wall alongside the door. The words 'staff only' had been stencilled in red across the door. By Gail's reckoning it was directly in line with the concierge area in the lobby, but entry was via a card swipe.

'Reckon you could kick this open extremely quietly?' Frankie asked Nixon. Gail didn't recognise him and figured he must be one of the new rookies assigned to 15 while she was undercover.

'Yep,' Nixon said. He was a large, muscular man and it only took him two attempts with a well-aimed boot for the door to give with a small pop.

'You made that look easy,' Gail said.

'The lock was pretty flimsy, Detective Peck,' Nixon smiled, pleased by the praise. Even though Gail had never clapped eyes on him, he obviously knew who she was. 'You'd expect the door to be reinforced but swanky places like these always skimp on service entrances.'

Through the open doorway they could see a flight of bare concrete steps.

'You ready?' Frankie asked. Gail, who was jumping up and down just as Elaine had taught her, nodded. She unholstered her gun, and Frankie did likewise.

'Do you want me to come with you?' Nixon asked.

Frankie considered for a moment before saying, 'okay but stay behind us and follow our lead.'

'Yes ma'am,' Nixon nodded earnestly.

The form of address would annoy Frankie—'I'm not some grey haired old biddy' she'd invariably complain to Gail when anyone made the mistake of calling her ma'am—but her displeasure only showed in the slight tightening of her mouth, which Nixon missed.

'Turn that off,' Gail motioned to the radio clipped to his belt.

Nixon immediately did as told. 'Wouldn't want that going off,' he said, trying for a bit of levity which Gail and Frankie ignored.

Gail led the way into the narrow stairwell, which turned twice before opening onto am equally narrow corridor. Here the linoleum floor was scuffed and had layers of grime which indicated it was cleaned infrequently. It was a stark contrast to the lobby with its polished marble floor and gleaming gilt.

Four doors led off the corridor. The first was a storage room, the next held cleaning equipment and the third was a small break room with a sink, bar fridge and very last had to be the concierge office which was behind the desk in the lobby, Gail decided. From memory the office had a long glass window overlooking the reception area.

Gail, crouched down by the door and motioned for Frankie and Nixon to follow suit. She slowly edged the door open, listening for any sound that would indicate Baxter had heard them. They needn't have worried because as they moved into the room it became apparent someone was speaking to Baxter over a loud hailer. The ETF negotiator, Gail supposed. At the least it had masked their movements.

Though the voice was muffled, having to travel from the street through the plate glass at the front of the building and then across the lobby to the office out back, Gail could still make out what was being said. The ETF officer was asking Baxter to answer the phone on the concierge desk and the request, or perhaps the presence of more police outside, was making Baxter increasingly agitated. He was swearing wildly and, by the sounds of it, pacing and yanking Angie, who let out the occasional whimper, with him.

'Shut the fuck up,' he screamed, whether at the negotiator or Angie or both was unclear.

The office was on the small side—just a desk with a computer, chair and two filing cabinets. On the wall opposite was the door which led out to the concierge desk and Gail edged closer to it, with the other two following. They were still crouching, which was beginning to be uncomfortable, but couldn't stand for risk of being seen by Baxter through the glass window.

'Why don't they just bring that bitch doctor here,' Baxter was saying. 'It's not that hard you cunts.' The last bit was shouted, presumably in the direction of the police outside.

Gail exchanged a look with Frankie. Baxter was close to losing it.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck,' he said, 'Geez, your girlfriend must really care about you. She doesn't even show. You know what I could just kill you instead. Do you think that would make her suffer or is she just a cold hearted bitch..'

"Please,' Angie said but Baxter didn't let her finish.

'Shut the fuck up,' he said and then struck her. Angie whimpered again.

'How about you get to choose who dies. You or her?'

Angie didn't respond.

'I'm waiting,' Baxter feigned boredom.

Angie must have mumbled something because Baxter said, 'What was that. Speak up.'

The door to the lobby opened inwards into the office. Gail carefully put her hand around the handle and pulled the door towards her just a fraction and then a little more. She looked back at Frankie who gave a nod.

Nixon was fiddling nervously with his radio and Gail thought she detected a slight tremor in his hand. Maybe it wasn't such a smart idea to bring him along. Gail opened the door to about half way. Just at that moment Nixon's radio squawked to life, the staccato sounds reverberating through the marble lobby, bouncing off the hard surfaces.

'Who's there?' Baxter demanded. 'Come out or I'll blow this chick's god damn brains out.'

'Wait, I'll come out,' Gail said, sounding much calmer than she felt. Frankie was shaking her head and mouthing 'no'. If one of them didn't go out to speak with Baxter, chances were he would hurt, if not kill Angie.

Ignoring Frankie, Gail stood and opened the door completely but didn't step out of the office. Her heart was beating thick and fast. She couldn't see Baxter but his voice had come from the right of the concierge desk. Taking a deep breath, and pushing down the dread and the nerves, she said in a voice that was somehow steady, 'My name is Detective Gail Peck. I just want to talk to you. See if we can find a solution here.'

'You alone?' Baxter asked, surprisingly quite lucid.

Gail debated what to tell him. If she said Frankie and Nixon were also in the office, Baxter could feel overwhelmed and do something rash. On the other hand, he might not believe she'd snuck into the building alone.

'My colleague Detective Anderson is covering me,' she said, at the same time motioning for Nixon to hide behind the desk in the centre of the room.

'Throw your gun out in front of you and come out with your hands in the air,' Baxter said.

'I can't do that Miles.'

'You want me to shoot this chick.'

'Angie. Her name is Angie and I don't want anyone to get hurt here, including you.' That was ones of the first rules of hostage negotiation. Make the hostage taker see his victims as real people. It made it harder for him (and invariably it was a him) to kill them. Hence Gail would repeat Angie's name as much as possible. It was a basic trick but it could work. 'I want to make sure you and Angie are okay.'

Baxter laughed. The sound had a maniacal edge that Gail didn't like.

'Miles, the Emergency Task Force is outside. The moment you pull the trigger, they'll storm the building.'

Truth was even before ETF got through the door, Baxter would be shot by one of the snipers positioned outside to pick him off, and who right now would have he and Angie in their rifle sights.

'And what makes you think I care whether I live or die.'

'You want to live long enough to see Dr Gordon don't you?'

'True,' Baxter laughed again. High-pitched and unhinged.

Gail sighed. 'I'm coming out now. My gun is in its holster and I'm putting my hands in the air. But remember my partner has me covered. Okay?' She wouldn't enter the lobby until Baxter assented. A big part of her hoped he'd say no. Then she could just stay put. No heroics, Oliver had warned and yet here she was about to come face to face with a deranged murderer.

There was shuffling for a little and Gail imagined Baxter was dragging Angie with him. Then he said, 'Yeah, alright.'

Gail chanced a glance at Frankie who looked back with a flinty expression. She held her gun with both hands and, once Gail walked out into the lobby, took up position at the door. Baxter had moved so like Gail he was behind the long concierge desk, but had wedged himself and Angie in the corner at the very end where there was a gap between the desk and the wall. He stood behind Angie with a 9 mm pistol to her temple. She was trembling violently and her face was swollen where Baxter had struck her.

'Okay Miles,' Gail said softly. Her hands were still above her head and she began to slowly lower them, 'is it okay if I call you Miles?'

'How'd you know my name,' Baxter asked.

"I'm working the investigation into Shannon's death.'

'You figured I did it?'

'Yep,' Gail said, realising there was no point sugar coating it.

'And now you wanna save Angie,' he pronounced her name in that careful way that sounds sneering. 'And that will only happen if you get Doctor Gordon here.'

'She's out of town. A conference,' Gail said, hoping Angie hadn't said anything to contradict this. 'We've tried contacting her but she's not answering her phone.'

'Bullshit!' Baxter exclaimed and yanked the yoke around Angie's neck so tightly her eyes bulged and she fought to breathe.

'Ask Angie,' Gail said hastily, hoping this would be enough to make Baxter release his chokehold on her. Red welts had formed on Angie's neck where the rope cut in and tears pricked at her eyes. On closer inspection, Gail could see her cheeks were streaked with massacre and one eye was so swollen it was beginning to close.

'Is it true?' Baxter loosened the halter and Angie nodded.

'Ottawa,' she gasped, somehow managing to have the wherewithal to play along. 'The Canadian Plastics Convention.'

'Dr Gordon must be in a session,' Gail said.

'Yeah,' Baxter said uncertainly. This information seemed to have thrown him. 'Okay then,' he said after a moment, 'Ottawa's an hour away by plane. I'm a generous guy—I'll give you two hours to get her here. Tell that other detective to radio that in.'

Frankie wouldn't need to. By now the ETF would have fixed listening devices to the building. Hopefully they could hear every word.

'And then what?' Gail asked.

'What'd ya think? I'll make her pay.'

'For what?'

'It's Dr Gordon's fault that Shannon died.'

'Because she slept with Shannon.'

'You know about that?' Baxter seemed surprised.

'I know she regretted it. So did Shannon,' Gail said.

'Bullshit,' Baxter exploded again, yanking the halter around Angie's neck once more.

'Hey, hey,' Gail lowered her hands completely so she could hold them out in a placatory fashion. 'You don't need to take this out on Angie. She is as wronged as you.'

'How'd you figure that?'

'Shannon cheated on you. Dr Gordon cheated on Angie.'

Baxter hesitated. He seemed to be considering. 'I guess that makes sense,' he eventually conceded.

'You know you could stop this now. You could let Angie go and then we could sort this out.'

'Sure, and nobody is gonna care that I killed two people,' Baxter said sarcastically.

'Is Chet dead?' Gail asked. She hadn't dared take her eyes off Baxter but out of the corner of her eye could see the concierge lying by the front entrance, his rotund belly making him seem like a beached whale.

'I dunno but he hasn't moved since I shot him so I guess so.'

'Maybe we could get the paramedics in here to take a look at him?'

'No fucking way. I never liked the guy anyways. Always looked down on me like I wasn't good enough for Shannon, even though she's the one who turned out to be a cheater.'

'It's hard when someone does that to you, when they betray your trust.' Build rapport. That was another thing Gail had been told to do on the course. Even let the hostage taker think you understand or empathise with them.

Shannon had slept with Lisa after the breakup with Baxter, but he still believed she'd cheated on him. As a police officer Gail had come across a lot of men like Baxter. Proprietorial. Controlling. Even when women left them, they believed they had a claim. And these were usually the sort of guys who abused their partners or worse murdered them.

Baxter looked Gail up and down, measuring. 'Like anyone ever cheats on you. I bet you're the one breaking hearts,' he scoffed.

'I wish that were true,' Gail said, 'the love of my life moved to San Francisco.'

Baxter raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'Man, that sucks. You didn't follow him, um them, ah her.'

Interesting, Gail thought, realising Baxter was more perceptive than she had credited him. She hadn't intended disclosing her sexuality, particularly given the Shannon/Lisa tryst probably meant Baxter wasn't too sold on the whole lesbian thing, but it seemed he wasn't bothered by whom she, at least, chose to date.

'The timing was off and I didn't want to hold her back,' Gail shrugged, the irony of once again revealing her innermost secrets to a complete stranger not lost on her—first the Commissioner and now a killer but never to the person who really mattered. 'And then I didn't think I'd be welcome. She dated someone else pretty quick.'

'Did you want to kill her?' Baxter's eyes glimmered at the prospect.

'Honestly, no.'

'Why?'

'It's kinda frowned on if you're a police officer,' Gail deflected but Baxter looked at her sceptically. Gail shrugged. 'I love her. Why would I want to kill her?'

Baxter regarded her through squinted eyes. Had she said the wrong thing, after all Baxter would claim he loved Shannon.

'You're whipped,' he finally grinned.

'Yeah, you're probably right,' Gail agreed.

'Geez women,' Baxter shook his head as though he and Gail were in covenant.

'You know the saying—can't live with them, can't live without them.'

Gail forced herself to chuckle. 'Got that right.'

'You know I'm not a bad person.' It was plain he wanted Gail to agree with him, like that would some how absolve him. 'And I was a good boyfriend. I know how to look after my woman.'

'Yeah, I can see that.' Gail added 'no I can't' in her head, but she had to say what Baxter needed to hear. Though disheveled now, he was handsome enough, and she imagined on first meeting he might be quite charming, reeling women in until he showed his true colours.

'If Shannon had treated me right, I never would have hurt her. You get that, don't you?'

As he spoke Gail saw that Angie was close to passing out. She was pallid and her eyes were closed. What would Baxter do if Angie lost consciousness? Would it push him completely over the edge?

'It sounds like she pushed you,' Gail said, 'I'm guessing Shannon maybe even taunted you with her infidelity.' She hated saying it, hated making it seem like Shannon was somehow responsible for her own death, but Gail had to make Baxter believe she was on his side. Then maybe, just maybe she convince him to release Angie.

'She threw it in my face,' Baxter exclaimed so forcefully a spray of spit chased the words. Angie was slumping now and didn't seem to notice. Gail suspected she only standing because Baxter was holding her up by the halter.

'And you know I get that.' Gail put out her hands in an expansive gesture. 'If you surrender now, all of that will be taken into account.'

'Yeah?' Baxter sounded hopeful.

'You were provoked.'

'I was,' Baxter agreed. 'Shannon was the one for me . We were meant for each other. She knew that but then something happened. Maybe it was that Gordon bitch. I always suspected something was going on, the way they looked at each other in the lift, practically eye fucking.'

It might be true. Then again, Baxter was the kind of guy who probably imagined flirtation where Shannon was just being cordial.

'So you can't be blamed for what you did.'

'Yeah, that's right,' Baxter nodded.

It was at this moment that Angie finally teetered, falling forward limply. Baxter yanked her back hard so her head snapped up, her eyes unfocused and the expression on her face one of defeat.

'Hey, hey,' Gail said, 'I think Angie isn't going to last two hours. Maybe we can work something out.'

'Yeah?' Baxter had a devious smile. 'How about a swap. You for her.' It was said slowly, like he was savouring the idea.

Gail hesitated. Like a drowning woman, she saw her life flash before her but it wasn't a replay of her past but rather an imagined future, to be precise her future with Holly. There was a proper date, and holding her breath as she slipped her hand in Holly's, and breathing again when Holly smiled, warm and wide. And there were more dates and kisses, tentative to begin with and even a little chaste, but over time growing in intensity. Then tumbling into bed, and staying there until finally forced to get up because their jobs and all the obligations that came with being an adult laid claim to them. Normally she and Holly didn't mind that but at that moment they detested the fact that the real world intruded.

Stolen kisses at work and at the Penny, ignoring Chris and Dov's wolf whistles. Then holidays, and going to Vancouver, where Gail's nerves at meeting Holly's parents would be calmed by their effusive welcome, her way having been smoothed by the Commissioner, or Ritchie as she now called him when not on duty. Taking Holly coffee or food when she had to work late and massaging the kinks out of her back after a gruelling autopsy. Teasing Holly for nerding out over a science documentary or tiptoeing around the house when she needed to finish a journal article.

Then moving in together and throwing a party, where Gail's friends would boast they always knew she and Holly would get back together, had in fact wagered on not only that but when they would finally move in. Chloe would pipe up to say she was taking bets on the wedding date. Gail would roll her eyes and call them all losers, but everyone would laugh and secretly Gail would feel like she was the biggest winner of them all. Then not caring who was watching, she'd pull Holly to her and the two of them would grin into a kiss.

Gail wished she could rewind, go back through the concierge office and down the narrow, dirty corridor and the concrete steps and up, out of the parking garage to be on the street again, standing next to Oliver watching the scene inside the lobby unfold. Pitted against that desire, was Elaine's voice, urging Gail to do her duty, to do what was right and what was expected of her.

From behind her, Gail heard Frankie hiss 'no'.

Gail remembered the morning after she and Holly had first slept together. Holly had slipped out of bed to go to the bathroom, and naked crossed the room, so confident in the way she moved, a slight smirk on her face as she knew Gail was watching her progress. She was still smirking when she returned. Gail was sitting up in bed now, not attempting to hide the fact she was looking at Holly, but grinning and feeling inexorably light and happy in a way she never had before. It occurred to her then that she could get used to this. That she could in fact grow old with Holly. The thought was so unexpected and so shocked her, Gail immediately looked away from Holly and down at the tangled sheets.

'Are you okay,' Holly had asked in that manner she had, all warm and concerned, which made you feel it was safe to admit to whatever was troubling you.

But instead of answering, Gail had pulled Holly down on top of her, kissing her hard, trying to convey in that kiss what she dared not put in words. Holly, perhaps mistaking her ardour for lustfulness, eventually moved her hand between them, then across Gail's abdomen to her centre, and brought her mouth to Gail's breasts, flicking her tongue against first one nipple and then the other. Until you got to know your partner's body, most first times were fumbling and even a little discordant, but Holly was a skilful and indefatigable lover (a pleasant though not wholly unexpected discovery) and Gail was immediately incapable of any thought or action other than to respond to Holly. Secretly Gail was grateful to be overtaken by these purely physical sensations as it stopped her from letting her feelings trip unguardedly from her tongue.

Now, more than anything, Gail wished she had had the courage to be honest with Holly that day. To say what she had really been thinking. If she had, chances are she wouldn't be standing in this lobby right now.

'Not so brave now huh detective.' Where before Baxter sought her approval, now he was taunting her. There had been a shift and he clearly felt he had the upper hand again. Gail cursed herself for letting that happen.

'What about this. I'll trade places with Angie if you allow the paramedics to come in and take her and Chet,' she suggested, as much to show she hadn't ceded complete control to him as to give Baxter another option.

'No,' Frankie said, louder this time. 'That's an order.' Gail wondered if Baxter had heard.

Baxter considered for a moment. 'Okay. I like talking to you better anyway. Angie's a pussy. Radio that in Detective Anderson,' he shouted the last bit.

'Okay Detective, put your gun down on the counter and stay there until I tell you to move.'

Baxter began to loosen the halter around Angie's neck but didn't untie her wrists. 'Hands in the air Gail and walk towards me,' he said, still holding on to Angie but aiming the gun at Gail now.

'Let Angie go first,' Gail said. 'It's not like I'm going to do anything stupid when you've got a gun pointed at me.' Before Baxter could object, Gail asked Angie if she was able stand on her own.

'I think so,' Angie said quietly, giving Gail a look of pure gratitude.

'You don't trust me?' Baxter asked, more perplexed than outraged. Of course, he thought he was a good guy. 'We've got a deal. You for her.'

'Look at it this way Miles, you've got the gun. I'll have my hands in the air and no gun. I think I'm being pretty trusting. I'd just feel better if you gave Angie a head start.'

To Gail's surprise, Baxter said 'Fair enough', but remained still as though waiting for a signal from her.

Gail took a deep breath. 'Okay Miles, let's do this,' she said, placing her gun on the concierge desk just as Baxter freed Angie and gave her a little shove. Angie stumbled and then shakily righted herself. The paramedics were already at the lobby doors with two gurneys.

Gail hesitated. She looked at Baxter, who had his gun trained on her, and then back at the counter where her own gun lay. With Angie scrambling to the doors, Baxter had lost his shield and if Gail waited a beat the ETF could get a clean shot. She didn't move. She watched as Baxter's expression morphed from one of expectation to indignation as it dawned upon him what she was doing.

Baxter raised the 9 mm higher. At this range chances where he'd shoot her in the head. On the other hand, it was quite possible he'd miss. There was a reason the police were trained to aim for the torso, what was known as the centre mass, because there was less likelihood of missing the target.

'We had a deal,' Baxter said and he actually looked hurt. 'I thought I could trust you.'

'Miles, it's time for this to stop. If you give me your weapon, we can end this now. You can walk out of here alive. '

Miles scoffed. 'You're just like all of them,' he said.

'You don't want to shoot me Miles,' Gail said.

'I've killed two people already. What's one more.' He was angry but in a way that was utterly and unnervingly controlled. If anything, it made him more dangerous.

When Baxter had been behaving erratically, there was every chance he wouldn't follow through or that Gail might be able to divert him, but now he regarded Gail calculating. The saying calm before the storm popped into her head, and she just knew Baxter was preparing to unleash his fury upon her.

The sound of the lobby door opening, bringing with it the noise from outside of police radios and a siren further in the distance and boots skittering across the pavement, momentarily distracted him.

Gail took her chance then, diving for her gun on the counter and just as she had hold of it, she heard the gunshot, painfully loud as it echoed in the marble foyer. Almost instantly she felt the thud in her side. All the wind was knocked out of her, and it hurt like nothing had ever hurt before.

The force of it threw Gail back against wall, and then she was sliding, sliding, sliding, waiting for the next bullet that was sure to come. When she hit the floor, Gail began to breathe again, a deep gasp of air that made her side hurt even more. Her ears were ringing and she didn't notice Baxter had moved until he was standing over her, his pistol aimed directly at her head. No way he could miss.

Gail didn't see Baxter pull the trigger but she heard the shot—first the crack and then the boom. In that instant time became elongated, allowing her to consider the shot at length. It wasn't as loud as the first one, which had reverberated around the hard stone surfaces of the lobby. If anything it sounded like it came from a high-powered rifle fired at some distance away. Then again her hearing was still affected so she had probably got it all wrong, and yet Baxter still didn't appear to have pulled the trigger. Almost as soon as she registered that, Baxter fell forward, narrowly missing her as he landed heavily on the marble floor. Then she blacked out.

When Gail came to, it was only for a moment. She was still in the lobby and she wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she was on a gurney and Holly was leaning over her with a worried expression. It felt as though Holly was holding her hand but perhaps she was imagining that. Gail couldn't work out if Holly was real, if any of this was in fact real. There was a haziness around the edges of her vision which made her wonder if she was dreaming or perhaps even dead.

Sounds were muffled too. Out of the corner of her eye, Gail could see people moving all about her—paramedics and ETF officers—but their conversations and footfalls were indistinct and seemed to come from far away. Holly said something but Gail couldn't make out what. Regardless, Gail knew what she had to do, even though the circumstances would make the declaration overly dramatic, something that normally was anathema to her. Surely Holly would forgive her for choosing a less than ideal moment because this might be the last chance to tell her what she should have said that morning years ago in Holly's apartment.

'Holly,' Gail croaked, hoping her voice didn't actually sound as strange as it did to her own ears. Holly leaned in closer. 'You are the love of my life.' And then everything went black again.

….

_Thanks for reading. If I can I'll try to update by Christmas. In the meantime let me know what you think._

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	8. Chapter 8

_Apologies for the delay in posting this. I got caught up in the bushfires here in Australia around New Years, stuck for several days in a town by the coast, surrounded by fires which had cut off the one road out, and with no power and no communication apart from the car radio. Even after safely returning home, I found it hard to write with all of this going on. The devastation is on an unbelievable scale, with lives lost, homes destroyed, 10 million hectares of bush burnt and over one million animals dead so far. It is heartbreaking. And still our leaders do little more than pay lip service to climate change._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy what is the final chapter of this story for now. Apologies for any mistakes. Let me know what you think._

_Thanks for the reviews, favs and follows._

…

'Would you say your powerless to prevent Detective Barber's death compelled you to switch places with Angie.' Doctor Helger, the police department psychiatrist, looked over the top of her glasses at Gail. It wasn't a penetrating gaze exactly. Doctor Helgar—'but please call me Cynthia'—was too subtle for that. Still it made Gail feel as though the psychiatrist could see right into her head, and she realised she couldn't wriggle out of this one. It didn't stop her trying.

'Compelled, that's a strong word,' she hedged.

'Is it?' Cynthia quirked an eyebrow ever so slightly. She lent back in her easy chair, seemingly completely relaxed like she was sunning herself by a pool. It was as though she had all the time in the world to wait for Gail to respond, when in fact their session was due to end in seven minutes.

Not that Gail was counting (well maybe a bit, okay a lot) but Cynthia had placed a clock on the bookcase behind her chair directly in Gail's line of sight. How Cynthia, who didn't wear a watch and had her back to the clock, managed to figure out when to wind up the session was a mystery to Gail.

'Um, sorry what,' Gail said, pretending she'd lost track of the conversation.

'I was asking if Detective Barber's death influenced your actions?' Despite her placid tone, it was clear Cynthia saw right through Gail's obfuscation.

'It was on my mind yes but then so were a billion other things.'

'A billion?' Cynthia smiled. She didn't seem so formidable when she did that. If anything it was this, rather than some of her sceptical looks (perhaps better described as cut the bullshit looks) that caused Gail to let her guard down.

'Holly too. Obviously. I didn't want to die before I had a chance to tell her how I felt.'

'So you thought about dying?'

'You always do when you go into a situation like that. It makes you more cautious.'

'So it's about self-preservation?'

'Yes, but it's also the reality.' She could see what the psychiatrist was doing. Nobody wants to work alongside a cop heedless to risk because they have a death wish, or decide to play the hero, or believe themselves invincible, or some combination of the three.

'So you don't hold yourself responsible for Detective Barber's death?'

Well, that was blunt. Gail didn't respond immediately and when she did she chose her words carefully. 'I will always wonder if I had done something differently whether Jerry might still be alive but I didn't kill him. Perick did. He's the one who is responsible.'

The psychiatrist also paused before speaking. 'I sense that's a new way of thinking for you.'

Gail bit her lip and gave a small nod.

'And did the hostage situation make you realise that?'

'To a degree. On the way to the scene Frankie kind of told me off for thinking I was partly to blame. Then when I was in the lobby with Baxter I realised we can only ever do our best to contain these guys. I didn't hand Baxter the gun and say take Angie hostage but I could use my training to get her out of that situation. And then Holly,' Gail hesitated.

'Yes,' Cynthia nodded encouragingly.

Holly had been gentle and understanding, but firm too so Gail had felt she must face her demons or at least this particular one. Undercover in Vancouver Gail had discovered there were monsters far worse than even Perick but she had locked that particular nightmare away for now.

'Holly suggested it was time to let go of the guilt. And if I didn't, well it was just another victory for Perick.' Holly hadn't said she was a victim but Gail took it as implied.

'And you agree with her?'

Gail blew out a breath. 'Yeah. Holly has made me see that the best way to repay Jerry, to honour him, is for me to try and live the best life I can. Which means I shouldn't let myself be paralysed by guilt or regrets.'

Cynthia didn't say anything but waited expectantly, as if she knew Gail had more to say.

'And I think,' Gail hesitated again and looked down at her lap. 'No, I believe that's what Jerry would have wanted, but I'll never forget what he did for me. And don't worry, I'm not going to randomly run into burning buildings to try and save people.' Gail gave a small self-deprecating smile

'Would you say saving Angie, in a sense, helped to even up the score?'

As Cynthia spoke the large hand on the clock reached twelve.

'And our time is up.' As Gail spoke she heard a ping, so quiet it would be easy to miss, come from the pocket of Cynthia's cardigan. It was probably a watch or some kind of timer. Somehow it was reassuring that Doctor Helger didn't have a freakish ability to sense when an hour had passed.

'Well, one good thing came out of this,' Gail said, thinking she should leave Cynthia with a least one morsel to chew over. 'I stopped being chicken about telling Holly how I felt about her.'

Holly was waiting downstairs in the lobby, and she greeted Gail with a wide, warm smile.

'All clear?' she asked.

'All clear,' Gail confirmed.

'I'm not sure if I should be happy or not,' Holly said as she took Gail's hand. It was said lightly but Gail knew Holly would always worry about her job. Not caring that they were at police headquarters and, it being lunchtime, the lobby was crowded with officers and department staff, Gail leant across and kissed Holly's cheek.

'I have three days before I'm back at work and my ribs are healed sooo…' Gail swung their hands between them.

'Sooo,' Holly mimicked, arching an eyebrow. 'What are you suggesting Peck?'

'A science documentary marathon,' Gail deadpanned, releasing Holly's hand,

'Well, you might be proposing a visit to the batting cages,' Holly teased.

'Yeah, because our last visit there was such a success,' Gail rolled her eyes.

'I had fun.'

'I almost got killed.'

'Exaggeration.'

'Hmph, even you admitted it might just kill me. No, this activity involves—.' Gail dragged out the final word and paused.

'Involves what?' Holly's lips curved into a smile.

Gail leaned forward again but this time to whisper in Holly's ear. 'Being very, very naked,' she said, her voice low.

In the six weeks since Gail had been shot, Holly had insisted they avoid doing anything to jeopardise the healing process, quickly putting on the brakes when kissing led to wandering hands, leaving Gail feeling as though she was in an almost constant state of arousal. From some of the looks Holly had been giving her, she was certain Holly felt the same way.

Now Holly's eyes widened slightly.

'Think your boss will give you a few days off at short notice?'

'I'll call in sick if I have to,' Holly said and Gail laughed. 'Oh shit was that too eager.'

'I think we're way beyond playing it cool Holly Stewart,' Gail grinned. 'So what'd ya say to a celebratory fu—.' Before Gail could finish speaking Holly clamped a hand across her mouth. Only then, when she had very nearly reached them, did Gail notice Elaine Peck striding purposefully across the lobby in their direction, a heat seeking missile with no intention of aborting its mission.

'Man, my mother's timing sucks,' Gail sighed.

….

_Six weeks previously_

When Gail woke she was alone in a hospital room. At least she thought it was a hospital room. The bed had plastic guard rails which had been locked in place and the sheets were heavy and starched. She was half sitting, supported by a number of pillows.

Various monitors were grouped around the top end of the bed but none were attached to her. That was a good sign. Clearly not on life support, Gail thought sardonically. The pain in her side hadn't subsided, but the edge had been taken off, probably by a heavy dose of pain killers if the wooziness in her head was anything to go by.

The room itself was overly bright, almost blindingly so and Gail had a fleeting notion that she might have died and this was the white light that heralded the crossover to heaven as you shuffled off this mortal coil. Ha heaven! Gail was sure there was a special place reserved for her in hell. Then again maybe saving Angie had made that fate a little less certain. Not that Gail believed in the afterlife. One of the paramedics had told her she was a hero but she didn't feel much like one.

'Ah, you're awake. How are you feeling?' The voice was brisk but friendly. Suddenly a nurse was there by the bed, smiling at Gail.

Okay hospital then, not the gateway to heaven or hell.

Gail screwed up her face. Now that she was properly awake she became aware of a horrible pounding in her head.

'Like I've drunk a bottle of tequila and have no memory of crawling home.'

The nurse laughed, a light breezy sound, and Gail got the sense she was humouring her. 'How about we get you sitting up a little more.'

Gail started to nod but found even the smallest movement hurt her head. 'What happened to me?'

Now the nurse looked worried. 'You don't remember?'

'Not that,' Gail started to flap her hand dismissively, but that action hurt her ribs. 'What's the damage?' She pointed to herself.

'Oh,' the nurse looked relieved. 'Three cracked ribs, a laceration to your head that required stitches and concussion.'

'I'd prefer a hangover.'

The nurse laughed again.

'I'm afraid we had to shave around the laceration in order to suture it.'

Ignoring the pain in her ribs, Gail reached up to feel the area but the nurse shook her head.

'Probably best not to touch it.'

'Oh,' Gail dropped her hand. 'What time is it?'

'Early. The sun's just come up. The night staff must have forgotten to shut the blind,' the nurse tsked as she moved over to the window and released the blind cord. 'You need to be in a darkened room for the next few days. You hungry?'

Gail started to shake her head but then remembered it would hurt. 'No,' she said and then added, 'thanks.'

'Probably a good thing. Breakfast isn't for another two hours but if you change your mind I can probably find something for you to eat.'

Gail fell into a fitful sleep after that, punctuated by snatches of the previous 24 hours. Although, given she was on painkillers, there was a good chance she was simply hallucinating. She had a memory of Oliver telling the paramedics to back off, insisting Holly was Gail's girlfriend and what's more a doctor and so should ride with Gail to the hospital.

Once safely stowed in the ambulance, Gail had looked up at Holly and whispered, with something akin to awe, 'are you my girlfriend?'

Except she wasn't as quiet as she imagined, and Holly looked around a little guiltily at the paramedics who stared right back. Then Holly lent over Gail, squeezed her hand and said, 'of course.' She added a little teasingly, like this was a well worn routine, 'don't tell me you've forgotten already.'

One of the paramedics muttered something to his colleague and Gail was sure she heard the word amnesia.

'Just checking,' she grinned at Holly, not completely following what was going on but sensing Holly might be in trouble if she didn't play along. Gail's ribs were killing her, but having Holly by her side and holding her hand somehow made it bearable. The paramedics had been apologetic but they couldn't give her painkillers, at least not until she had a head CT scan.

'Did I hurt my head?' Gail remembered being propelled back against the wall by the force of the shot, and then blacking out, but she thought that was because of the pain in her side where the bullet hit her vest.

'You took a blow to the head. Split it open at the back,' one of the paramedics explained.

Zero for bedside manner, Gail decided. She reached up to touch the top of her head and realised it was bandaged. Holly looked pained but it was unclear whether because of her injury or the paramedic's plain speaking.

Holly had to let go of Gail's hand when the ER doctor examined her and again when Gail was taken away for the head scan. Each time Gail immediately felt Holly's absence. Just as the scans were done, a neurologist appeared. Someone who Holly seemed to know and who, from what was said, Gail suspected may have been sent by Lisa. He and Holly poured over the scans but were satisfied nothing was amiss.

Gail saw the Commissioner as she was being wheeled to her room. By then she'd had a dose of oxycodone.

'Look it's the Commish,' Gail excitedly pointed out to Holly. 'Ritchie! Commissioner Ritchie,' she called out as he approached, 'what brings you here? You're not sick are you? Oh shit, is that too personal? Can I ask that?' she turned to Holly.

'I think Ritchie is here to see you,' Holly smiled.

'Me?!' Gail did a double take and then shook her head vigorously. 'Let me tell you something Ritchie,' she lowered her voice and looked around to see if anyone was listening. Catching sight of the orderly pushing her wheelchair, she said, 'you, block your ears.'

'Umm,' the orderly said doubtfully.

'Better do as Gail says,' Ritchie suggested good-naturedly. 'She's a police officer.'

'And this here,' Gail indicated Ritchie, 'is the tipiest tip top of the top brass. Like the star on the Christmas tree or the pinnacle of a mountain, the apex on a triangle or—' Gail frowned with concentration as she struggled to think of other suitable analogies.

'I think he gets it,' Holly said gently.

'Okay but no eavesdropping.' Gail did her best to glare at the orderly before turning back to Ritchie. 'The thing is,' her voice took on a conspiratorial tone, 'hospitals are full of germs. Millions, no billions of them. So if you don't have to be here run, run for your life.'

'I think I'll take my chances,' Ritchie grinned.

'Well, don't say I didn't warn you,' Gail waggled her finger. 'You could probably catch the bubonic plague in here.'

'These days the plague is treatable,' Holly said.

'Tell that to the 30 million people killed by the Black Death.'

The orderly sniggered and Gail whipped her head back around.

'It's true. In the 14th century the plague wiped out at least a quarter of Europe's population.' Gail narrowed her eyes. 'Wait a minute, you weren't supposed to be listening.' She seemed hurt, rather than belligerent, as though the orderly had betrayed her trust.

'Honey,' Holly took hold of her hand, 'that's not exactly a state secret.'

Instead of objecting, Gail smiled goofily at Holly. She liked it when Holly held her hand. It made her forget about everything else.

'I'm glad to see you two are doing okay,' Ritchie said.

'Wait,' Gail whipped her head around again, this time to face Ritchie. 'I was told you were discrete. You weren't meant to tell Holly that!'

'Tell her what?' Ritchie was genuinely puzzled.

'You know, that she is the love of my life.'

'I think that cat is well and truly out of the bag,' Holly smiled.

'The cat wasn't in the bag,' Gail screwed up her face, 'the cat was up the tree. And anyhow the cat got down from the tree.'

'Uh okay,' Holly looked as though she was doing her best to decipher Gail's meaning, although the corner of her lips quirked as though she was amused.

'Holly, you usually keep up,' Gail frowned. 'Did Ritchie tell you? I won't be mad. Well maybe only a little and probably just with him.'

Gail tried to sound casual,1 like she wasn't accusing Holly or the Commissioner of anything. Although if Holly had known why hadn't she said anything? Maybe Holly didn't feel the same way, but given she hadn't left Gail's side since the shooting, Gail was inclined to believe she did. But what if…oh shut up brain, Gail told herself sternly, as every new doubt made things less clear.

It was always like this on oxy. It made Gail feel at once sharp, as though she were operating at a level of heightened consciousness, and utterly fuzzy like someone had dumped a bag of wet cement in her head.

'Tell me what?' Holly asked, her tone extremely gentle. She crouched down so she was at eye level, and then reached out to caress one side of Gail's face.

The touch was featherlight but Gail relaxed into, not unlike a cat softly butting against the hand that strokes it, and like a cat she didn't exactly purr but felt reassured and loved. Yes loved. In that moment her fears receded, and she pictured the backwash of a wave drawing away from the shoreline, across sand and shell grit and sea polished pebbles, to finally join the great mass of ocean.

'Did Ritchie tell you about the cat,' Gail murmured as Holly removed her hand.

'He never mentioned any cats,' Holly began tentatively.

'Oh,' Ritchie seemed to catch on, 'I didn't break your confidence Gail.'

She considered that and after a moment said happily, 'okay.'

'I may have encouraged Holly not to give up hope,' Ritchie smiled, 'based on what you told me.'

'Wait, you knew how Gail felt about me?' Holly looked up at Ritchie, clearly trying not to appear reproachful, 'and you didn't say anything?'

'He's discrete,' Gail pointed out, 'you said so yourself.

Ritchie laughed.

'And you had hopes?' Gail asked Holly in a way that was both shy and delighted. She couldn't stop the grin spilling across her face.

'Oh believe me, I had a lot of hopes.' From the way Holly was looking at her, Gail was sure she might have kissed her had they been alone. And Gail may have grinned even harder had she not at the very moment heard her mother down by the nurses' station asking after for directions to her room.

'The hospital administrator is a personal friend. He assured me my daughter is to have a private room.' As usual Elaine's voice was loud and imperious and it carried down the corridor.

'Uh oh buzzkill,' Gail said and turned back to the orderly, 'Fifty bucks if you can get us out of here before that woman sees us.'

Of course that didn't happen. It transpired they were now outside Gail's room so the orderly wheeled her in, and then he and Holly helped Gail into bed. Ritchie hung back in the corridor, suddenly awkward, and Gail became conscious of her hospital gown, which was too large and gaped at the back as all hospital gowns do.

'Chloe has gone to your apartment to get pyjamas,' Holly murmured as she straightened a pillow behind Gail's head, 'she said she had a key.'

Gail nodded. When she bought the apartment, she decided someone other than herself should be able to access the place. What if she choked on a cheese puff and nobody found her body for weeks? At least Chloe might come looking if she had a key. Of course, on handing over the key, Gail had to firmly discourage Chloe from thinking they were besties or something.

Once she was settled in the bed, propped upright by various pillows which Holly said was the best position given her cracked ribs, Gail saw that Ritchie was blocking the doorway. He had his back to the room but Gail caught sight of her mother just beyond him.

'Commissioner,' It was Elaine's fake voice, though even in her drugged state Gail could detect the note of surprise. Elaine most definitely would not have expected to see Ritchie here.

'Really, I mean it,' Gail turned frantically to the orderly, 'get us out of here. Surely there's a back door.'

'It's a hospital room,' the orderly said dourly, clearly in no mood to indulge Gail.

'I think we're done for,' Gail reached for Holly's hand and clutched it to her chest.

Holly smiled, 'I reckon we can weather this storm,' she said.

'Tornado more like,' Gail muttered as Elaine and Ritchie's conversation filtered in from the corridor .

'There will be an investigation of course,' Elaine said in a tone that was hushed but somehow not quiet.

'Naturally,' Ritchie said, 'it's protocol.'

'And I don't expect you to extend any favours to Gail just because she's a Peck. If she did the wrong thing, she should face the consequences.'

'I don't think it's a question of,' Ritchie started to say but was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor.

After the doctor left, Gail fell asleep. Elaine had been bustling about the room with an air of efficiency, even though as far as Gail could tell she wasn't actually achieving anything. Gail decided it might be easier to shut her eyes.

Elaine then started shooing people out of the room. By that stage Oliver and Frankie had shown up, as well as Chloe with pyjamas (Elaine had seemed rather surprised that this consisted of boxers and a t-shirt) and some toiletries (Gail hoped Chloe hadn't spent too much time rifling through her apartment).

When Elaine said, 'Holly dear, I think I can take it from here', Gail's eyes flew open.

'Holly stays,' she said so adamantly that her mother acquiesced. Elaine's displeasure was only apparent in a brief twist of her mouth, but Gail wasn't sure whether this was from habit or genuine annoyance. Her mother was not known for making allowances, so Gail guessed it was probably Ritchie's presence, rather than her injuries or any trauma she may have gone through, that made Elaine back down.

When Gail woke again a few hours later she was groggy and disorientated and it took her a moment to register where she was. She wasn't sure if she imagined it, but her mother was leaning over her with a grave expression, saying 'you brave foolish girl.' Gail felt a tear—just a solitary one—splash upon her cheek. Elaine stepped back, and Bill, who had barely spoken to Gail since Steve went to prison, kissed her on the forehead and squeezed her hand.

Gail felt her eyes flutter and next thing she knew Holly was gently shaking her awake from a nightmare. Perick had been taunting her, saying she might have saved Angie but Jerry was still dead and that was all her fault. 'You're going to live with that forever,' he said, drawing out the last word so he could savour it like some delicious morsel on his tongue. Perick's laugh was so merciless that even when Gail opened her eyes to see Holly peering at her through the nighttime gloom it seemed to reverberate around the room.

'You don't have to stay,' Gail said as Holly helped her to sit up some more so she could drink some water.

'I want to,' Holly said and then smiled mischievously, 'after all I am your girlfriend.'

'Are you?' Gail brightened.

'Is that what you want?'

'I have hopes,' Gail said, echoing Holly's words of earlier.

The next nightmare was worse. Not Perick this time but the little blonde boy, no more than five years old, being led away. Gail couldn't do anything. The raid was three hours away and if she had intervened months of the task force's work, of painstakingly gathering information and of meticulous planning, would be for nothing. The traffickers, here in Canada and over in Russia, would melt away, only to resume business once the dust settled.

Up until that day, it had been teenage girls, mainly Eastern European. The little boy had chatted brightly to Gail in Russian. He thought he was on his way to see his aunty. After Sergei left with him, Gail had bolted to the bathroom and thrown up until the bile burned her throat. 'Must have been something I ate,' she told Mikel, Sergei's witless brother. They didn't find the little boy during the bust or afterwards. By then Sergei was dead and Mikel denied any knowledge of the child.

Gail didn't register that she was crying soundlessly until Holly brushed the tears away with her fingertips and kissed her forehead. 'It's okay,' she soothed, 'you're safe.'

Gail wanted to tell her it wasn't her own safety she was concerned about but the story of the little boy and her inability to protect him sat heavily in her heart. She wasn't even certain she knew how to tell it.

Maybe Holly sensed something of this because the next thing she lowered the guard rails on the bed and, removing some of the pillows propping Gail up, slid in alongside so her body cushioned Gail.

She must have slept fairly soundly after that because she had no other memory—real or imagined—of the night. Now Gail woke for a second time that morning to the sound of the breakfast trolley coming down the corridor and the cheery greetings of the staff delivering the meals which somehow always managed to smell like overcooked cabbage.

There was no sign of Holly or that she had in fact been there. The nurse from earlier came into the room bearing an enormous bunch of flowers that nearly obscured her face.

'You must have an admirer,' the nurse said, frowning a little as she realised the flowers were too large to sit on the bedside table. 'I'll pop these on the floor for now. Do you want me to read the card?'

Gail nodded (and was relieved her head didn't hurt so much anymore). Holly definitely wouldn't have sent them. She didn't like shop bought flowers and Elaine would never order anything so ostentatious.

'I owe you. Thank you. Lisa,' the nurse read out.

'Take them away,' Gail flapped her hand. 'Throw them out.'

'But they're beautiful,' the nurse protested, 'and would have cost a pretty penny.'

'Give them to a patient with no family or friends then. Or you keep them but just get them out of here.'

The nurse huffed a little but did as asked, almost colliding with Frankie on her way out.

'Aren't those going the wrong way?' Frankie jerked her thumb in the direction of the disappearing flowers.

'They're from Lisa.' Gail made a face.

'Oh god, she has been calling me and Holly but Holly won't pick up. Angie won't speak to her either.'

'Not surprising,' Gail said but for some reason it didn't give her any satisfaction that Lisa was on the outer. 'Was Holly here last night?'

'Yeah,' Frankie regarded Gail like she was an idiot. 'All night. I think it's the kind of thing people do when someone declares their undying love for you.'

'I guess you heard that.' If Gail wasn't propped up by so many pillows she would have slumped down into the bed. Instead, she just had to squirm internally.

'And not just me. All of ETF and Oliver and I believe Holly who was standing next to him at the time because Lisa insisted they go to the apartment.'

'Oh.' Now Gail wished a hole would open up in the floor and swallow her.

'Holly went home to grab a shower and a couple of hours sleep before you woke up. And she only agreed to do that because I offered to watch over you while she was gone.'

'Watch over me,' Gail curled her lip, 'I'm not a baby.' It was easier to latch onto this than let Frankie see how ridiculously happy she felt knowing Holly had indeed been by her side. So happy in fact it eclipsed her embarrassment at the news that pracically half of Toronto knew how she felt about Holly.

'Should I be worried you've forgotten about Holly?'

'Forgotten about me?' came a voice from the doorway, and there stood Holly, with a playful smile, looking gorgeous and freshly scrubbed and only a little bit tired.

'Never,' Gail beamed, not caring anymore what Frankie thought. Holly grinned back. It was only as Holly advanced towards the bed that Gail saw she was carrying a cardboard tray with three cups of coffee. 'You got coffee! No wonder I love you,' Gail blurted out and then reddened. She and Holly hadn't had a chance to talk about Gail's confession, however if anything Holly looked amused.

Frankie coughed and shifted n her chair. 'Perhaps I should—'

She didn't get a chance to finish as Dov, Chris and Chloe not so much walked but rather tumbled into the room all at once, pushing and grabbing at one another like hyperactive children. Chris was holding a smiley face balloon with the words 'get well soon' emblazoned across it. Gail would bet money Chloe had bought it from the shop on the ground floor.

Almost as soon as they appeared, the trio retreated, squeezing back through the door as one, balloon and all. It was like watching a film on rewind. Gail started to laugh at their idiocy, expecting them to reappear. However, instead of her three friends, Elaine stood in the doorway. She was looking not at Gail but back over her shoulder.

'Come in,' she barked, 'I won't bite.' There came the sound of loud whispers in the corridor. Elaine arched an eyebrow and turned to the three women in the room. 'Are they frightened of me?' she asked, spreading her arms to indicate how incomprehensible she found this.

'Um, of course not,' Gail fudged, not wanting to rat out her friends. 'You're a real pussy cat mom,' she added.

Elaine opened her mouth to retort but was prevented when Chris very nearly collided with her as he was propelled into the room. He came in with such force Gail imagined Dov and Chloe must have pushed him in. Chris grabbed Elaine around the waist to steady both himself and her and then just as quickly dropped his hands as if she were on fire. He blushed and had started to mumble an incoherent apology when Dov and Chloe scuttled into the room.

Even though it hurt her ribs, Gail couldn't stop herself from laughing.

Elaine narrowed her eyes at the trio who stood with downcast eyes. 'Hmph,' she said after a moment, and only then did the three dare look up. 'The three stooges I presume?'

'Toronto's finest,' Frankie sniggered.

Chris reddened again. Dov's eyes widened and Chloe looked like the teacher's pet wrongly accused of a misdemeanour and not certain whether to be chastened or indignant. The two warring emotions made her expression somewhat defiant, an impression not helped by the fact that she was standing with feet placed firmly apart and a hand on one hip. She went to say something but thought better of it.

'Yes?' Elaine may have even tapped her foot.

Chloe gave a small shake of her head.

'Okay then,' Elaine said, 'I may as well tell all of you to save repeating myself. I've spoken to the doctor and Gail is to be discharged today. The doctor will stop by to give Gail a final check but then—"

'That's excellent news,' Chloe squealed and clapped her hands.

Elaine's eyes literally boggled. She started to draw herself up, which Gail knew was not a good sign.

'Thank god. I don't think I could have lasted another minute in here,' Gail said, hoping the whine in her voice would distract Elaine enough that she wouldn't unleash on Chloe.

'Gail,' Elaine remonstrated.

'We've set up our spare room for you Gail,' Chloe said before Elaine could continue. 'Between Dov, Chris and I, we can make sure someone's with you at all times. Or if you prefer to go back to your apartment, we could take shifts.'

'That won't be necessary,' Elaine cut in, 'I have engaged nursing staff through an agency who will provide round the clock care. Your old room has been readied and your father will be here shortly to help take you home. I believe,' she looked pointedly at Chloe, 'this offers the best care regime for Gail's recovery.'

'Mom,' Gail protested, 'I just need to rest up. I don't need nurses for that.'

'I don't know, depends on the nurses,' Frankie said.

Gail glared at Frankie. She could have at least said something to help Gail out. No way she was spending six weeks at Fortress Peck fussed over by strangers, and even though Chloe was well intentioned, one week with her was bound to end very badly.

'Don't look at me. I'm not playing nursemaid,' Frankie said, 'no, you need someone far more qualified.' Smirking, she cut her eyes sideways to Holly.

It was only then that Gail looked at Holly properly. It seemed Holly wanted to say something but was holding back. Gail decided to take a punt.

'I'm staying with Holly,' she said.

Holly smiled, a beautiful lop-sided smile and Gail might have got quite lost in it but for Dov interrupting.

'Holly?' he echoed dumbly. 'But she's—'

'My girlfriend, knucklehead.'

'But—,' Dov may have continued if Chloe hadn't elbowed him in the ribs.

'That's settled then,' Elaine said crisply, as though they had all arrived at a satisfactory agreement. Gail could have sworn Elaine and Chloe exchanged a meaningful look.

'Wait, mom you were you in on this too,' she accused

'In on what?' Elaine tried to seem vague.

'You know exactly what. All of you have been conspiring to get me and Holly back together.'

'Well, somebody needed to give you two a push,' Elaine flapped her hand about dismissively in much the same way Gail often did. 'Now Holly, let me know what I can do to help you. Gail is not an easy patient.'

'But, but at your party you were trying to set Holly up. And you invited a bunch of my exes—' Gail began to protest.

'All part of the plan,' Elaine said smugly, no longer bothering to deny she had played a part in the scheme. 'Though I must say Detective Price and I had a hell of a time tracking down the waitress.'

'So they were in on it too!' Gail was finding it hard to tamp down her outrage.

Frankie put her hand up. 'I may have acted drunker than I was.'

'So you knew!' Gail glared at Frankie.

'But not the other exes. We just arranged for them to be there,' Chloe said. 'And hoped things would run their natural course.'

'Natural course! Holly probably thought I'd spent the last three years screwing every available woman and had no interest, no interest—'

'Yes Gail,' Elaine asked with a quirked eyebrow.

'No interest in her,' Gail mumbled. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Holly smirking.

'Well, at least the ring master from the circus didn't show,' Elaine chuckled, actually chuckled.

'Ringmaster?' Now it was Holly who raised an eyebrow. If anything, she too seemed to find the unfolding drama entertaining.

'Trapeze artist,' Gail shook her head impatiently. 'How many times have I told you that mother.'

'Chloe got the impression you quite broke the poor girl's heart,' Elaine smiled.

'You know I always wondered what she was like in the sack, being an acrobat and all,' Frankie said almost whimsically.

'Oh my god,' Gail annunciated each word. 'That's it. I disown you all.'

'All?' Holly asked. She was smirking again because she knew damn well Gail wasn't referring to her.

'No, just this bunch of interfering, overstepping—'

'I told you she wouldn't take it well,' Dov interrupted.

'For the record Gail,' Chris stammered. 'I only found out a couple of days ago.'

'Was everyone in on this,' Gail huffed. 'Tracie?

Chloe nodded.

'Ollie?'

Chloe nodded again.

'Not Ritchie?'

'Who?' Chloe was confused.

'The Commissioner,' Elaine explained. 'Gail, what have I told you about using people's correct titles?'

'That I should,' Gail replied, and then added as if it was an afterthought, 'superintendent.' She could have sworn she heard Holly snigger. Then a thought occurred to her. 'Wait, mother did you put these losers up to this?'.

Elaine shifted slightly, moving her neck as if her collar was too tight. 'Detective Price and I ran into each other at the station just before Dr Stewart's return to Toronto. It seemed we were both of the same mind in thinking you might need a little push if you will.'

'So basically you all conspired against me and Holly. You didn't believe that we, two grown women, could work this out for ourselves?'

Elaine looked across at Chloe and as one they both said, 'Ah no.'

Before Gail could respond (and by now she was really ready to let fly), Holly squeezed her hand. 'Honey, they may have a point,' she said. Gail opened her mouth, then shut it again, not willing to concede just yet but at the same time realising she didn't actually care because Holly was holding her hand and smiling at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the entire world.

It was only when Elaine cleared her throat that Gail realised she had been gazing at Holly, probably smiling goofily, for quite some time.

'We would have worked it out eventually,' she said.

'Next century,' came Chloe's unexpected retort. That was plain mean—wasn't Chloe meant to be a Disney Princess, Gail thought sullenly. Elaine laughed again. A genuine even giddy laugh like she was enjoying the whole spectacle. Gail was gearing herself up to verbally slay them both (although strangely for once a cutting put down did not immediately spring to mind) when the doctor arrived.

Much later, after she had been discharged and waved off everyone as they tried to fuss over her (with the exception of Frankie who appeared to find her discomfort amusing), Gail found herself seated on Holly's couch drinking lemon and ginger tea.

'It's very refreshing,' Holly had reassured as she plopped down next to Gail, and Gail had to admit she was right.

'Sooo,' Gail said after a moment.

'Yes?' Holly placed her cup on the coffee table, suddenly nervous. 'You know I won't hold you to anything. Put it down to the situation. I mean near death experiences tend to make people say all sorts of crazy things and I know it's far too early for us to be making grand pronouncements and we probably need to date and work out what direction we're heading and—'

'Holly,' Gail interrupted, saying her name quite sternly but then continuing in a lighter tone. 'Half of Toronto heard my confession. It's not like I can take it back,' Gail shrugged now.'

"Well, the ETF now call me Peck's girl,' Holly smiled and Gail got the impression she quite like this epithet. 'But—'

'Holly, i meant every word,' Gail interrupted again before Holly gave into any more doubts. 'I knew almost from the start. At some level I probably knew the moment I met you. I should have told you before you left for San Francisco. Hell, I should have told you before you introduced me to Lisa and Rachel. And I wish it hadn't taken a crazed gunman to make me say it.'

'Yes.' Holly held her breath.

'I don't want to fuck things up and if you want to take it slow and see if things work out, then fine I'll go with that, but you Holly Stewart are the love of my life.'

Holly didn't answer but shifted across so she could kiss Gail. Just a sweet press of her lips against Gail's and then she was drawing back until Gail bunched a handful of her shirt to pull her in again. The kiss was slow at first, a reacquaintance and a confirmation, but then it gathered in fervour. Without thinking Gail twisted her body to be closer to Holly and then hissed as a sharp pain shot through her.

'Oh,' Holly jumped back, 'your ribs. Maybe kissing isn't such a good idea. I mean you could—'

'Holly,' Gail pouted, 'It's a perfectly excellent idea. We can be careful.'

Holly didn't look convinced and remained where she was. 'You know,' she looked down at her hands which were now in her lap. 'I came back for you. I mean the job was a huge draw card and I missed my friends and I missed Toronto but mainly I missed you.'

'Yeah,' Gail was grinning so hard it almost hurt.

'And I spent three years trying to move on, and every time I went on a date I'd find myself comparing them to you until finally I gave up on dates altogether.'

Gail scrunched up her face.

'What is it?' Holly, for a moment thinking Gail was in pain.

'Apart from the fact that you're not kissing me?'

'Apart from that,' Holly smirked.

'Do I really have to hear about your dates?'

'At least I'm not parading them in front of you.'

'That was Elaine and Chloe's fault. I had nothing to do with it,' Gail protested.

'I know,' Holly reached across and took Gail's hand. 'Let me finish okay?'

'Then will you kiss me?'

'Possibly.'

'Hmph.' Gail would have crossed her arms if she wasn't worried she'd jar her ribs again. Instead she contented herself with pouting.

'You are too adorable,' Holly grinned and, relenting, leant over to kiss Gail. It was another brief kiss but enough to placate Gail. She didn't even object to being called adorable.

'So, you were saying,' Gail prompted as Holly dew back. She liked the fact that Holly had a slightly dazed expression, although she suspected she probably looked the same. She made a show of giving Holly her undivided attention, although in truth Holly already had it.

'Uh,' Holly made an effort to collect her thoughts. She took a deep breath and pushed back her glasses.'Okay. I tried to forget about you. I tried to move on but nothing worked. I've never felt that way about anyone. Sure people have broken my heart, but it didn't take long for me to pick up the pieces and move on. I'd even wonder what I had seen in that ex.'

'All dumbasses, everyone of them,' Gail interrupted.

Holly scoffed and then continued. 'Anyway, I had this idea of myself as self-sufficient, that I didn't need a relationship to sustain or complete me, and while relationships could be fun, I was also okay on my own. I had my job, which I loved. Lisa and Rachel used to tease me about being married to work, then you walked into my crime scene—'

'My crime scene—'

Holly rolled her eyes.'Whatever. After that nothing was the same again. In San Francisco, I'd be in the middle of doing something, it could be the most trivial thing or vitally important, and all of a sudden I'd think of you. Sometimes it was enough to literally knock the wind out of me. And then the job came up back here and I thought what the hell, because I didn't want to end up a sad, sorry woman who threw away the most wonderful person she's ever met,' Holly paused and gave Gail one her lop-sided smiles.

'I'm not sure you should be quoting me back to me,' Gail sassed. Partly it was to buy time. Holly's revelation, though not unexpected, overwhelmed her. Not in a bad way. No, it was the largeness of it all. Gail felt full to the brim with happiness and something else intangible that was very like excitement but with a measure of disbelief and gratitude at her sheer dumb luck that Holly felt this way about her. 'And you know I'm not that wonderful,' she added.

'Hey, don't say that about the woman I love,' Holly sassed right back.

That made Gail stop and her eyes go wide. 'You love me?' It was said hesitantly.

'I thought that was obvious.'

'Only to you nerd.' Now Gail was grinning again. 'Why did you wait so long to tell me?'

'Why did you?' Holly countered.

'Paranoia, fear of rejection I guess.' Gail shrugged, 'and you were giving very mixed signals.'

'Me!' Holly exclaimed. 'As soon as you laid eyes on me at your mother's party you ran away and hid from me.'

'You noticed that huh?'

'Yep.'

'But then I ran after you when you left.' Gail pointed out.

'That gave me hope,' Holly admitted, 'until I saw you at the crime scene the next morning and convinced myself you'd gone home with Frankie.'

'Uggh,' Gail shook her head in disgust at the thought.

'Well, you two had history.'

'Let's not talk about that right now.'

Holly laughed. 'Frankie seems okay.'

Gail looked skeptical.

'As a friend,' Holly added hastily and they both laughed. 'Though that night when Oliver drove everyone home from the Penny and Frankie was basically yelling at you to score weirded me out.'

'Is that why you jumped back?'

'Partly. We were drunk and it suddenly didn't seem like a good idea to just fall into bed. And I wasn't completely sure you felt the same way.'

'Holly, I practically couldn't keep my hands off you all night.'

'And that only started because you were pretending to be my girlfriend so Jen Luck would leave me alone.'

'It was a convenient excuse,' Gail grinned wolfishly and Holly swatted her lightly on the arm. 'Hey, I am an injured person,' Gail protested.

'If you don't like it here, I can call Elaine or Chloe to come fetch you,' Holly teased.

Gail rolled her eyes and said, 'No need to threaten me. I'll be good.'

Instead of coming up with a smart retort, Holly suddenly looked serious. She picked at a loose thread on the hem of her shirt and then looked back up at Gail. 'I should have known you'd never misuse your position to harass Lisa,' She made an apologetic face.

'What made you change your mind about that?'

'Ritchie pointed out that you weren't the kind of person to act like that and he was right of course. And he suggested you treated me the way you did when you and Frankie showed up at Lisa's apartment because you were jealous.'

'Well, the four of you did look pretty cosy,' Gail said in her defence, noting she now had one more reason among a growing number to like Ritchie.

'Admit it Peck you were jealous.'

'Maybe,' Gail conceded with a huff.

'For the record I have zero interest in Sidney,' Holly tilted her head to one side, 'besides I've given my heart to a certain snarky cop.'And when it looked like you were applying for a job in Vancouver I knew I had to do something.'

Gail grinned again. She had forgotten how easy it could be with Holly. Nobody ever seemed to get her in the way Holly did—well, until Gail so spectacularly sabotaged their burgeoning relationship, leaving Holly hurt and bewildered and angry.

As the shadows on the street outside lengthened and the afternoon passed into a velvety twilight, Gail and Holly at last found themselves talking about that implosion. Holly had assumed Gail knew that for her the relationship was so much more than fun. After all, up until that night at the Penny, she believed all her actions had signalled just how much she cared for Gail. If anything Holly worried Gail might be scared off by the depth of her feeling and so didn't admit just how fast she was falling in love.

However, Holly hadn't appreciated how in the short time they were together Gail had allowed herself to be more vulnerable than with any previous lover. So hearing Holly describe the relationship as simply fun had not only made all the old wounds associated with past rejections resurface but had hurt Gail more deeply than she imagined possible. 'Flayed,' was how she described it and Holly nodded in understanding

And the more they talked, the more Gail and Holly realised that it was these shared hurts that lay behind the missteps and misunderstandings that had so very nearly derailed any prospect of them getting back together. 'I don't think I could go through that again,' Gail confessed, to which Holly added solemnly, 'me either.'

'Holly, this will probably sound stupid but when you left, in fact all the time you were in San Francisco, it was literally like I was walking around with a great big hole in my heart,' Gail said quietly.

'Same.'

'After Sophie's adoption fell through, all I wanted to do was go find you in San Francisco but then I worried you'd think I was only there because I couldn't have Sophie. And I decided you would have moved on and were sure to have a new girlfriend. And after everything I didn't think you'd want to see me, let alone take me back.'

'You don't know how many times I almost called you.' Holly sighed and made a rueful face.

'Are we idiots?'

'Probably.'

'We are never going to admit that to anyone,' Gail said.

'Never,' Holly laughed.

That night Gail started out in the guest bedroom but then the nightmares came. After that she moved into Holly's room.

'I'm not u-hauling,' she assured Holly, who just laughed at that.

After a few days, Holly returned to work so between them Chloe and Elaine drew up a roster that meant Gail had someone look in on her everyday.

'I'm not an invalid,' she complained but was secretly grateful for the company.

She had started the mandated therapy sessions with Doctor Helger so whoever happened to be at Holly's that day would drive Gail to the appointment. Elaine kept the house stocked with food—not cooked by her but a catering company made regular deliveries.

Ritchie came by a week later to tell Gail she'd been cleared by the IA investigation. In fact, the investigators said Gail should be commended for her actions, particularly given how level-headed she remained throughout the siege. Baxter had posted a manifesto of sorts online in which he swore to kill Lisa and 'take out any bitch who stands in my way.' His hatred seemed to be reserved for women in particular, not that he'd shown any remorse for killing Chet, the doorman.

'The investigators believe there could had been more loss of life had you not intervened,' Ritchie said. He started dropping by regularly, and Gail found it nearly as easy to talk to him as to Holly.

Elaine still didn't like it that Gail called him Ritchie. She kept correcting Gail until one evening Ritchie pointed out that he was practically family so it would be embarrassing if Gail addressed him by rank when they were off duty. Gail could practically see the gears shifting in Elaine's head. For Elaine, a family connection to the commissioner could only strengthen the Pecks' position on the force. She was probably already planning Gail and Holly's wedding to capitalise on just that.

Lisa showed up three weeks later. Gail was out in the back courtyard, half dozing and enjoying the weak rays of the autumn sun (at least at this time of year she didn't have to worry about being burnt to a crisp), when she sensed she wasn't alone. She opened her eyes to find Lisa clutching a six-pack of beer.

'Who let you in?' Gail asked, pleased she hadn't jumped out of her skin. In fact, Gail would bet Lisa hadn't even registered she was startled.

'Nice welcome,' Lisa said, 'I have a key.'

'Yeah? Holly know you're using it?'

At that Lisa looked uncomfortable. 'We're not speaking or at least Holly's not speaking to me but I guess you know that.'

Gail nodded slowly. 'So you thought you might use me as a conduit,' she said, not bothering to conceal the derision in her voice.

'No,' Lisa made a face. 'I wanted to—' She stopped and then held up the six pack. 'Beer?' she offered.

'You broke into Holly's house to offer me a beer?'

'No!' Lisa was indignant. 'And I didn't break in. This is hard for me Peck.'

Gail raised an eyebrow. Lisa waited a beat, clearly hoping Gail would help her out but Gail stared back at her impassively.

'Okay then,' Lisa took a deep breath. 'I guess you don't owe me anything.'

Gail wanted to laugh out loud and say 'you got that right' but she remained silent. Let Lisa squirm.

'I've been seeing a therapist. On my own and with Angie.'

Had Angie forgiven Lisa? That was news to Gail.

'She hasn't forgiven me,' Lisa continued, clearly guessing what Gail was thinking. 'But she agreed to couple's therapy. Well, she came to one session. It's a start anyway.'

Still Gail said nothing.

'I've never done that for anyone.'

What did Lisa expect Gail to do? Congratulate her. Give her a medal. Seeing a therapist was the least Lisa could do for Angie given what she'd put her through.

'And I'm not a fan of shrinks.'

Gail sighed loudly enough for Lisa to hear.

'Yes, well,' Lisa laughed nervously, 'you're probably wondering why I'm here.'

Gail shrugged. 'My guess is your therapist set me as homework.'

'Close but not exactly,' Lisa gave a hollow laugh. 'I don't need to pay $400 an hour to work out I've fucked up big time.'

'Yeah?' Gail was sceptical.

'And I owe you an apology. I underestimated you.'

Gail blinked. Now that was a surprise.

'Actually I probably owe you more than one apology.'

'Okay.'

'I should have taken your advice and moved out of the apartment while Baxter was on the loose. I didn't take you seriously.' Lisa hesitated. 'And I should never have made you promise not to tell Holly that I slept with Shannon and—'

Lisa stopped. She placed the six-pack on a little table next to Gail. 'And,' she repeated but got no further.

'And?' Gail prompted. She definitely wasn't going to make this easy for Lisa.

Lisa took a beer from the carton and started to determinedly strip the label from the bottle.

'And,' she said without looking up, 'I was an ass the night I first met you at the Penny. I shouldn't have got between you and Holly. But I'll admit it—I'm a snob and I didn't think you or your job amounted to much. I thought Holly was letting lust cloud her judgement.'

'Is that something Holly's in the habit of doing?' Gail asked, knowing it wasn't. Holly was usually level-headed, although Gail had come to realise that she, or at least her presence, was one thing that could discombobulate the good doctor. Though in fairness, it worked in the reverse as well.

'No,' Lisa shook her head, and looked up at Gail. 'I've never seen Holly so happy as she was with you or so miserable when you two split up.'

'I was the same,' Gail admitted quietly. The victory she should have felt at Lisa's admissions quashed by this memory.

'And what you did for Angie—well I can never repay that.'

'It's my job,' Gail shrugged, happy to be back on safer ground.

'And I'll probably never say this again but you are freaking awesome at it,' Lisa grinned then. 'Beer?' She held out a bottle.

'I'm still on pain meds.'

'Trust me, one beer won't hurt.'

Gail raised an eyebrow.

'I'm a doctor. I know these things.'

This was how Holly found them an hour later. Gail was nursing her second beer while Lisa had managed to down the other four in fairly quick succession. From the way she slurring her words, it was obvious she was a lightweight when it came to alcohol.

'What are you doing here?' Holly's voice was cold and her expression hard. She went to stand next to Gail, taking her hand. There was something protective about how she positioned herself, almost shielding Gail from Lisa.

'Lisa came to apologise,' Gail explained. Holly narrowed her eyes. 'Pretty much for everything.'

'It's going to be a long night then,' Holly said.

Gail laughed. She'd never really seen Holly in full bitch mode.

'I deserved that,' Lisa said, draining the very last of her fourth beer.

Holly ignored her, instead giving Gail her complete attention. 'Honey, I'm not sure drinking beer is a good idea, not while you're still on pain meds.' It was said gently and without a trace of reproach or criticism. Gail liked that about Holly, her ability to state a fact without being bossy or judgemental, so Gail didn't feel in the least pressured. Needless to say Holly was right most of the time, but Gail wasn't going to admit that.

'Lisa said it would be alright,' Gail grinned a touch evilly, knowing she had just put Lisa even deeper in the shit.

'There's a reason she went into plastics rather than general practice,' Holly said, not looking at Lisa.

'Holly's right about that,' Lisa laughed, 'I've got no patience for details or patients whining about an ingrown toenail or whatever.'

'Hey,' Gail admonished, 'one of my relatives died from an ingrown toenail. Well, sepsis brought on by an ingrown toenail.'

'Oh sorry,' Lisa said, not sounding in the least that way. 'They were probably treated by a doctor like me. Did you sue?'

'Nuh. He never sought medical help. Insisted he could treat it himself. He was a stubborn old goat.'

'I'm going to fix dinner,' Holly said.

'Very domesticated,' Lisa smirked.

'I was going to ask you to stay but—.'

'Okay, okay I'm being a bitch. Domesticity is good. Slutty Lisa is bad and the best thing to come out of this mess is that you two are back together.'

For the first time since she had arrived home, Holly looked at Lisa properly, scanning her face for any trace of insincerity. But there was none. Even Gail had to admit that.

'You can stay but I haven't forgiven you yet,' Holly said. Without waiting for a reply she went into the kitchen.

'Phew,' Lisa sat down heavily, her relief genuine.

'So you approve of me now,' Gail smiled sweetly.

'Don't push it Peck. But I promise I won't say anything against you as long as you treat Holly right. Now, has Holly got any stronger liquor?'

…..

_Present day_

As she drew level with the two women, Elaine gave a brisk nod of her head and said 'Gail' and then added 'Holly' as an afterthought. Her mouth was drawn in a tight line and there was something about her that suggested a singularity of purpose. Gail knew that look. It meant Elaine was here on business and for some reason that filled her with foreboding. But then again she often reacted to her mother that way.

'Hello mother,' she said. 'Fancy seeing you here.'

'I need a word,' Elaine replied, ignoring Gail's fatuousness, 'in private.'

'We were just leaving.' Gail was no mood to cooperate. The longer they lingered the longer she'd have to wait to be alone and hopefully very naked with Holly. In any case she suspected Elaine was trying to dragoon her into some unpleasant task (probably involving some ass kissing to 'advance' her career). 'Can't you just tell me what it's about.'

Elaine sighed heavily. 'I've just been speaking to the head of the trafficking taskforce. He thinks they've located the little boy and that Sergei is still alive. He wants you back undercover.'

…..

_So this is where I will leave this story for now with the possibility of a sequel at some stage should readers be interested in one. Review and tell me what you think—I always love getting your reactions!_


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